


The Break In

by KBwrites



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBwrites/pseuds/KBwrites
Summary: Daryl and Merle do a job that takes an unexpected turn.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

“I got a bad feeling about this.” Daryl leaned forward on the truck’s bench seat, peering through the cracked windshield at the small house sitting at the end of the cul-de-sac. The headlights flickered off as Merle cut the engine, leaving them in silence except for the soft ticking of the engine as the darkness settled over them like a lead blanket.

Merle leaned across Daryl’s knees to pop open the glove box and pull out his .45, digging through the mess of candy wrappers, empty cigarette packs and other crap to find a few bullets. Daryl watched him load the gun with that familiar sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Thought you said the house would be empty?” he asked.

“It is.” Merle slid the last bullet into the chamber and clicked it shut, the tip of his tongue working at the corner of his mouth as he attached the silencer.

“Then what the hell you need a gun for?”

“Just for a little insurance, that’s all.” Merle dug in his pocket and pulled out a small square of tin foil and a glass tube. “You gotta relax brother,” he mumbled around the tube dangling from between his teeth as he carefully opened the tin foil. “Have a hit before we go in, just to settle your nerves.”

“Hell no,” Daryl spat, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes locked on the dark house. “Don’t know why you keep smoking that shit. Makes you jumpy as hell and probably shrinks your balls too.”

Merle kept his thumb steady on the lighter, inhaling the thin stream of smoke as it drifted up. “Told ya, it relaxes me,” he choked out, holding the smoke deep in his lungs, “and my balls are just as big as ever. Wanna see?” He moved one hand toward his zipper.

“Fuck off,” Daryl muttered.

Merle chuckled and dropped the burnt tin foil on the floorboard at Daryl’s feet, ignoring the loud squeal from the truck’s door as he hopped out and shoved the gun into the waistband of his pants. When Daryl didn’t follow him, his brother leaned back into the cab, draping one arm casually over the steering wheel.

“Relax, man. It’s just like I told you. A quick in and out. Easy peasy. No muss, no fuss.”

Daryl let his head fall against the back window, the cool glass sending a shiver down the back of his neck. He didn’t know how his brother always managed to talk him into this kind of shit. He’d been doing it ever since they were kids when Daryl would steal cigarettes for Merle and his buddies down at the corner store once they’d gotten caught too many times to do it themselves.

“C’mon now, move your ass,” Merle urged. “Let’s get this done. You’ll be back home in your lazy boy with a six pack before you know it.”

Daryl turned and pushed the door open, doing his best to ignore the smug grin on his brother’s face as he pulled the duffle bag from the bed of the truck.

They slipped into the back yard easily enough. Every house on the street was dark except for the occasional blue glow from an upstairs window. Merle leaned against the casing on the back door while Daryl knelt down to work on the lock.

“Nice neighborhood, huh?” Merle mused, chewing on the toothpick that was tucked in the corner of his mouth.

Daryl just grunted in response. He really wasn’t in the mood for making small talk with his brother at the moment.

“Yep,” Merle continued. “Nice, but not too nice, you know? This is the type of place where you find the good shit. Not those goddamn McMansions down the road. Those fuckers are in debt up to their eyeballs. Never have shit that’s worth a damn.” He paused to spit off the porch. “Now, the folks around here, they’re the ones that got stacks of cash hidden in the floorboards, ya know? Don’t own nothing too fancy. Don’t like to show off.” He tapped one knuckle lightly against the glass of the sliding door next to Daryl’s head. “This prick’s one of them doomsday preppers. You know the type? Paranoid. Rich as hell but you’d never know it. A real asshole by the sound of it too.”

Daryl didn’t bother answering this time. It was a habit he’d fallen into over the years, seeing how long he could go without saying a word before his brother noticed. Merle mostly liked to hear himself talk, so it was an easy game to win.

In the brief silence, he listened for the soft click of the lock and slid the door open, carefully putting his tools back in the bag before they stepped inside.

Merle let out a low whistle as soon as they were through the door, his gaze roaming across the open living room and kitchen from the nearly empty countertops to the sofa with a small throw pillow tucked perfectly on each end. Even in the dim moonlight they could see that the white upholstery was spotless. Daryl hadn’t ever seen a house this clean in his life. It gave him the creeps.

“Alright, so where’s all this damn money?” he said, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other

“Hold you horses, little brother,” Merle said, sucking his teeth as he turned a slow circle in the middle of the room. “Give me a second to see how the other half lives, would ya?”

“We don’t got time for your Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous bullshit right now,” he said, brushing past his brother as he moved into the kitchen, searching for the door that would lead them into the attached garage. That’s where he’d keep his money if he had any- in a big ass gun safe bolted into the cement floor.

“Just ‘cuz your hillbilly ass can’t appreciate the finer things in life don’t mean you gotta bring me down to your level,” Merle said as he sauntered after Daryl, running his palm along the smooth edge of the granite countertops. “If it weren’t for me you’d still be living in that damn cabin out there in the backwoods.”

“I like that cabin,” Daryl mumbled, pulling open a door at the back of the kitchen and finding a pantry full of food instead of the garage he was hoping for. “Shit.”

Merle pushed past him and reached up to pull the chain on the small light fixture over their heads. It was clear that Merle was right about this guy being a prepper. The lower shelves were packed with cases of MREs and the upper shelves were stacked with rows and rows of jars, mostly home canned stuff, all neatly labeled by somebody with pretty cursive handwriting.

“Well, well,” Merle said, reaching for a large white ceramic canister near the back of the small room. “Let’s see what old Ed’s got in the cookie jar, shall we?” He pulled off the lid and reached inside, his face falling as he pulled out a cookie. “Dammit,” he said, taking a bite and throwing it back in the jar. “Oatmeal raisin too. Couldn’t even be chocolate chip.”

“Shhh,” Daryl whispered, holding up two fingers over his shoulder as he stepped back into the kitchen. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Merle asked in his normal voice.

Daryl leaned further into the kitchen, straining his ears to see if he’d hear it again. His brother had sworn up and down that the people who lived here would be gone all weekend, but he was pretty sure he’d just heard something.

“I told you man, there’s nothing to worry about.” Merle walked past him and started jerking open the cabinet doors two at a time. “The hardest part of this job is figuring out where the rich son of a bitch stashes the cash, so your ass better start looking. Cuz if you think I’m handing over thirty percent just for picking a damn lock you’re out of your…”

Merle’s rant was interrupted by another distinct thump from upstairs, this time followed by a stifled scream. The brothers locked eyes and Merle gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. It was a look that they’d shared more times than Daryl could count and he knew what it meant: Don’t get involved; Don’t try to fix it; Leave it alone or you’ll make it worse.

Daryl reached back and pulled the chain on the pantry light, plunging them back into darkness until their eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight again. They slipped quietly toward the sliding glass door where they’d come in and Daryl couldn’t help but marvel at how quiet his brother could be when he wanted to. There’d even been a time when Merle had been the better hunter; able to approach any quarry without letting so much as the sound of his own breathing scare it off. Of course all that changed after he enlisted in the army, returning with a new appreciation for long-range scopes and bigger ammo.

Merle paused when he reached the slider, turning back toward the living room and whispering. “Hold up a second.”

He slipped through the shadows back to the kitchen while Daryl waited, trying to ignore the sounds that were drifting down from upstairs. He knew those sounds better than anything. Could recognize them even if he had a pillow over his head and his fingers stuck in his ears. He needed to block it out. Focus on getting Merle and getting the hell out of this house. There’s nothing he could do anyway, even if he wanted to.

“Hey man, get that bag in here now.” Merle whispered triumphantly from across the room.

Daryl hurried back over to his brother, casting a quick glance upstairs as he passed the dark wood bannister. “What the hell are you doing? We need to get out of here.”

“Jackpot.” Merle stood in the light of the open freezer with a wicked smile. “I’m telling you, all these assholes are the same.”

When Daryl looked inside he saw the stacks of cash, carefully wrapped in layers of cellophane right there behind the bags of frozen peas and packages of ground beef. Merle was already grabbing the cash with both hands and stuffing it in the bag that hung loosely from Daryl’s hands.

There was a loud crash upstairs followed by the sound of heavy footsteps and they both stopped, eyes cast up to the ceiling as they waited to see if they needed to make a run for it. The thirty seconds of silence that followed were enough for Merle to finish emptying the freezer and zip up the duffel bag but Daryl’s feet were rooted to the floor.

“Let’s go,” Merle rushed back over to the slider, only pausing when he realized Daryl hadn’t followed him. “There ain’t nothing you can do,” he said firmly. “Gotta just let them work it out for themselves.” It was the same thing Merle used to say to him when he was a kid. When they would huddle together under a blanket and try to ignore the light fixtures rattling overhead from their old man’s rage.

His brother was right. There was nothing he could do to help. Even an anonymous call to 911 after they were gone wouldn’t do any good. He knew that from experience, when concerned neighbors would send the cops over to the Dixon place and they’d haul his dad off to jail for one night just so he could come home madder than a hornet the next day.

He took a step into the living room as another crash rattled the house and a voice roared from the top of the stairs.

“I said clean it up!”

There was a thud followed by a sharp gasp and a body came tumbling down the stairs to land at his feet. The woman’s white nightgown was illuminated by the moonlight where it pooled around her slight frame. She whimpered and started trying to push herself up, but immediately froze when she noticed him standing there. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, a strange mixture of fear and confusion flickering across her delicate features.

“Wha-?” she started, but before she could finish the thought, the man who had shoved her was on her again.

“You lazy bitch,” he bellowed, clambering down the stairs after her but stopping short once he caught sight of Daryl.

“Who the fuck are you?” he slurred. “What the hell are you doin’ in my house?”

Daryl stumbled backwards, tearing his eyes away from the woman huddled on the floor and turning to follow Merle out the door, but before he could take three steps, he was hit from behind, the weight of the other man pushing him to the ground. They wrestled for a few seconds, both of them trying to gain the upper hand, but when the hammer on Merle’s gun clicked, they both froze.

“Get up asshole.”

Ed immediately rose to his knees, his hands trembling as he put them over his head. 

“Take whatever you want,” he blubbered. “Just don’t hurt me.”

Daryl stood up and grabbed the bag he’d dropped when Ed tackled him, sneaking a glance at the woman who was still sitting in the same spot, staring down at the floor. He’d only meant to look for a second, but when her eyes flickered up to meet his, he just kept staring, wondering if Ed’s rage over losing this money would somehow come back on her.

He was still staring at her when he heard a grunt and turned just in time to see Ed lunge at Merle’s legs, knocking him off balance with the unexpected move. They both tumbled to the ground and the gun skittered across the polished wood floor, coming to a stop at the base of the kitchen island. Daryl and the woman both dove for it, but she was faster, her fingers closing around the barrel as she pulled it out of his reach.

She flipped it around quickly, almost fumbling it in her attempt to get it pointed at his chest, but once she had it she didn’t waver. Her arms were shaking but her finger rested firmly on the trigger and he had no doubt she’d pull it if he tried anything. He raised his hands automatically, backing away toward the living room where Merle and Ed were still wrestling on the ground.

“Stop.” Her voice came out like leaves rustling on the forest floor, dry and crackling and quiet enough that the other men didn’t even pause.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I said stop,” she repeated, this time loud enough that they looked up and pushed away from each other, scrambling to their feet while she kept the gun trained on Daryl.

Ed let out a surprised snort, almost doubling over with laughter once he’d taken in the situation. “Well goddamn girl. Turns out you are good for somethin’ aren’t you?”

She glanced nervously at Ed while stepping back to put a little more distance between herself and Daryl.

Merle took the opportunity to try to talk his way out of the situation. “Hold on now sugar,” he cooed. “Ain’t nobody got to die tonight, alright?” He kept his hands up in a show of surrender. “You got us. Now why don’t you put the gun down and my brother over there will drop that bag and we’ll all walk away from this.” His voice   
was even and slow, doing his best not to spook her.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line but her eyes were still wide with fear, darting back and forth between the three men.

Merle took a hesitant step toward the door. “See now, everybody needs to just stay calm and we’ll be on our way, no harm done.”

“Don’t move,” she whispered, swinging the gun in Merle’s direction and adjusting her grip. “Please don’t move.”

Ed laughed again. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ Carol? Shoot this asshole.”

Carol was squeezing the gun so tightly that Daryl could see her knuckles turning white and he wondered if he should try to take it from her. She looked like she might collapse any minute and there was a good chance her husband would just walk over and grab it, killing Daryl and Merle himself without a second thought.

“Easy now,” Merle continued moving toward the door, his voice was soft but Daryl could read his body language. He was getting ready to run. “Let’s just relax.”

Daryl’s own muscles tensed. There was a good chance Carol wouldn’t be able to hit them if they took off running, even at this short distance. It was obvious she wasn’t accustomed to guns and her nerves would get the best of her before she could get off a clean shot.

“Jesus Christ.” Ed sneered. “I said shoot him you dumb bitch!”

Carol took a shaky breath, squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side, letting out a sob as she swung her arms around and pulled the trigger. There was a muted thwop and Ed stared at her wide-eyed, his lips forming a surprised O as he looked down at the red stain spreading out from the center of his white undershirt.  
He dropped to the ground a second later and Carol followed suit, crumpling in on herself with deep, racking sobs.

The brothers stood there for a good minute before Daryl had the sense to creep forward, gently sliding the gun out of her reach before picking it up and tucking it into the back of his pants. She didn’t try to stop him. Just sat there in a heap, crying into her hands, her whole body shaking with each shuddering breath.

Daryl wanted to leave. He wanted to run as fast as he could away from this house and pretend like none of this had happened. Pretend that he hadn’t just watched a woman kill her husband. It wasn’t like the prick didn’t deserve it, but Daryl couldn’t help wondering what the hell she was gonna do now. It didn’t seem right to leave her here alone but he couldn’t stand to sit around and listen to her cry either. Then there was the uncomfortable fact that they’d been in the middle of robbing her and he still wasn’t sure if she was planning on calling the cops or not.

He looked at Merle for some kind of plan, but for once his brother looked just as dumbfounded as him. Daryl was still standing there, his thumbnail shoved between his teeth, trying to figure out what the hell to do, when another sound drifted down from the second floor. This time it was the soft creak of floorboards and a little girl’s voice.

“Mama?”


	2. Two

Carol looked up with a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as she scrambled toward the stairs like she just realized she’d left herself alone with two men who could easily kill her and her daughter without a second thought.

“Please,” she whispered, holding her hands out in front of her as she crawled backwards up the stairs. “Don’t hurt us. Take whatever you want, just please don’t hurt us.”

Daryl raised his hands in the same way, palms out, mirroring her gesture and doing his best to look less threatening.

“Mama?” The girl’s voice came again, her tone more urgent this time.

“I’m here Sophia,” Carol answered, her voice shaking. “Now go back to your room and don’t come out until I say so.”

“Ain’t gonna hurt you,” Daryl said, keeping his voice quiet and steady as he backed toward the living room, trying to keep her calm. “We’re leaving. Ain’t gonna do nothing.”

She stayed frozen, one hand gripping the bannister, only her eyes moving as she tracked him across the room to the spot where Merle was standing, his mouth still agape.

“Let’s go,” Daryl whispered, nudging his brother with his elbow to snap him out of his trance, hard enough to make him flinch. Carol reacted to the movement even more dramatically, skittering up two more steps before Daryl could even blink. Once they’d both settled down, Daryl reached past his brother slowly, his fingers just closing around the handle of the sliding glass door when Merle cleared his throat in that way he did when he was about to do something stupid.

“Hold on just a second,” Merle said, eyeballing the bag of cash that was sitting abandoned in the middle of the floor as he turned to his brother, speaking quietly. 

“The way I see it, this whole situation has gone to hell in a goddamn hand basket. And we should at least get something for our trouble.”

“I said let’s go,” Daryl repeated. “I ain’t taking her money.”

“Well what exactly do you think we’re gonna do when the cops are after our asses?” 

Merle asked. “We’re gonna have to get the hell out of Dodge. Lay low for a while. And I ain’t got the cash for that kind of thing.” He cleared his throat again and took a cautious step forward, his hands in the air like he was surrendering to a cop. “Now, I ain’t gonna hurt you, sugar. You just stay right where you are and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

Carol gave the barest hint of a nod, her shoulders hunching in on themselves as Merle inched closer, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two men.

“I said leave it,” Daryl growled at his brother. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Merle was still thinking about the money after everything that just happened. Hell, he’d probably spend the next few days trying to convince Daryl that they’d done the woman a favor, giving her the opportunity to get rid of her piece of shit husband.

“Good thing it’s not your call,” Merle said, stepping gingerly over the pool of blood from Ed’s body that was growing with every minute that passed, soaking into that perfect white carpet and seeping into the subfloor beneath. He bent down to scoop up the bag and tucked it under his arm, giving Carol a wink as he stood up again and turned to his brother.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He was just stepping over Ed again when a low groan escaped from the man’s lips. Merle stumbled and almost dropped the bag, backing away from the body as quick as he could, his eyes bulging with fear and surprise.

“Oh god,” Carol gasped, rushing back down the stairs, suddenly oblivious to the brothers. She pressed her ear against Ed’s chest like she was listening for a heartbeat.

Daryl and Merle exchanged a look. There was no way in hell Ed could be alive. She’d shot him pretty much point blank in the chest and he’d been laying there bleeding out for a good five minutes. The noise must have come from something else. But when he groaned again, there was no mistaking it. The man was still alive.

“Oh god,” Carol repeated, pushing herself up and staggering toward the kitchen, her hands soaked in Ed’s blood. She yanked the phone from its cradle and stabbed frantically at the buttons while Merle edged away from Ed. The man’s fingers were twitching now and Daryl wondered it this was some sort of after effect from death. He’d never actually seen a person die before. But he’d killed plenty of animals, and they’d never made any noises like that. Or fucking moved for christ’s sake. Once they were dead, they were dead.

Merle must have been thinking the same thing, because he was still standing there, staring down at the body with his head cocked to the side and a deep crease between his eyebrows when Ed reached out and grabbed his ankle.

“Jesus Christ,” Merle jumped back and fell all the way to his ass this time, crab walking backwards as Ed pulled himself up to a sitting position, his skin gray and his eyes glazed over with a white film. He groaned again, his jaw snapping open and shut like a fish out of water, and lunged at Merle.

This time Merle was ready and kicked Ed hard in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards onto the blood-stained carpet, but the man wouldn’t stay down. He clawed his way up the sofa, leaving a trail of blood on the white upholstery as he pulled himself up to his full height before staggering forward again, this time moving toward Daryl.

Daryl ducked under Ed’s flailing arms and stumbled to the other side of the room, putting himself between the dead man and Carol, but Ed’s attention had already shifted back to Merle. He approached Merle with his teeth bared, earning a right hook to the face followed by an elbow that must have broken his nose, but neither one slowed him down. He just kept going, pushing Merle against the sliding glass door and leaning in, his jaws snapping as he tried to take a bite out of Merle’s shoulder.

Ed growled in protest as Daryl took hold of both of his shoulders from behind and pulled him back, hard enough that they both fell to the floor, the larger man landing on top of Daryl and knocking all the air out of his lungs. He tried to push Ed away, but the other man’s back was soaked with blood and Daryl’s hand slipped in the meaty mess of an exit wound that the bullet had left.

He fought the urge to gag, turning his head to the side just in time for Merle to swing a fire poker against the side of Ed’s skull like a golf club. The momentum forced Ed to roll off of Daryl, but he dragged himself up to his feet again after a few seconds, his jaw hanging at a strange angle where Merle had hit him.

Something cold and metallic dug into Daryl’s back and he remembered the gun. He reached back to grab it just as Merle was lining up for another swing, this time making contact with Ed’s temple, but doing nothing to slow him down. Daryl raised the gun with shaking hands just as Carol had done a few minutes earlier and pulled the trigger over and over until every chamber was empty. The bullets hit Ed in the chest and he staggered backwards, falling against the far wall, but still standing. It wasn’t until Merle stood over him with the fire poker, swinging it down against his head over and over until there was nothing left but a mess of brains and bone, that he finally went still.

Merle dropped to his knees, still holding the poker, his lungs working overtime as he tried to catch his breath and Daryl let the gun fall to the floor before looking up to where Carol was still standing in the kitchen, her face blank, the phone held loosely in her right hand.

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for?” Daryl demanded. “Are you gonna call the cops or what?”

She tore her eyes away from the bloody mess that was her husband and tried to focus on Daryl. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“Why the fuck not?” he yelled, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating.

She looked down at the blood-smeared phone in her hand with a confused expression. “It’s busy.”


	3. Three

“What the hell do you mean it’s busy?” Daryl pushed himself up from the ground and staggered over to her, snatching the phone away and dialing 911 himself. He didn’t care if the cops showed up and hauled both him and Merle off to jail. This shit wasn’t right. That guy was dead and came back to life. Took six bullets to the chest and kept coming. None of it made sense and as much as he hated cops, this was some serious shit, and somebody official needed to get over here right now and figure it the hell out.

Daryl smashed the phone against his ear, but the only sound was the relentless buzzing of a busy signal. He hung up and tried again while Carol stared at Ed, that blank look back on her face. It wasn’t until Merle got up and nudged the body with the toe of his boot that she shivered and turned away, crossing her arms across her chest. Daryl dialed a third and a fourth time while Carol watched, her eyebrows raised in anticipation, like he might have the magic touch to get somebody on the line who could actually help her.

When he hit the buttons for the fifth time and the busy signal came through again, he turned and slammed the phone down on the kitchen table with a sharp smack and yanked his cell phone from his pocket. He flipped it open, dialing those three numbers again and praying that maybe there was just something wrong with the landline they’d been using.

His heart jumped into his throat when it actually started ringing, and just as he was trying to figure out what the hell he was gonna say when somebody picked up, it clicked over to a recorded message. Something about experiencing a high call volume and asking people to be patient and some other bullshit that he didn’t bother listening to before ending the call.

“It ain’t working,” he said, avoiding eye contact with Carol but still noticing her shoulders slump out of the corner of his eye. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”  
Merle stood up straight and squinted at the ceiling, rubbing the back of his head like he was in deep thought. “You and me will drive over to the cop shop,” he finally said, shrugging his shoulders like this kind of shit happened every day. “Fill out a report or something and they’ll send somebody out.”

Daryl glared at his brother. It was bad enough that Merle had made him come out here to rob the place, but now he wanted to leave this lady and her kid here alone to deal with what was left of Ed. There was no way in hell Merle was really planning to go tell the cops about what happened. He was just saying what Daryl wanted to hear so he could get him to leave without putting up a fight.

He was just about to say all that when he heard the girl’s voice again, this time choked with a sob and coming from the foot of the stairs.

“Mama?”

Carol rushed over to the spot where her daughter was standing with a stuffed doll clutched against her chest and her eyes as big as saucers as she took in the scene. Daryl moved to block her view of the mess that used to be her daddy, but it was too late. The girl was gasping for breath in between big hiccupping sobs and when Carol tried to pull her into a hug, she recoiled at the sight of her mother’s bloody hands, scrambling backwards up the steps.

“Sophia! Wait!” Carol followed her daughter upstairs and they disappeared into the darkened second floor.

“Alright, baby brother, that’s our cue,” Merle gripped Daryl’s shoulder and tried to pull him back toward the sliding glass door. “We gotta get out of here while the gettin’s good.”

Daryl couldn’t help noticing that Merle had the bag of cash tucked under his arm again and the urge to strangle his brother was overwhelming. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from lunging forward. Somehow Merle was always getting him into this kind of shit. And he was the dumbass who went along with it. But nobody had ever gotten killed before.

“Now don’t start going soft on me,” Merle chided. “You really think getting locked up is gonna do shit to help that lady and her kid? Because that’s exactly what’s gonna happen if we’re still here when the cops finally get their shit together and show up.”

There was no point in arguing. Daryl knew Merle was right. But still, something just didn’t sit right about leaving them alone after what had just happened.

“What about that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to Ed. “We can’t just leave them alone with him.”

Merle looked down with a sneer of disgust. “I don’t think he’s getting back up again if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“He got back up the first time.”

There was a minute of silence while they considered their options, then Merle spoke up. “Alright, we’ll put him outside. So if he comes back for round two, he won’t be able to grab them or nothing.”

Daryl nodded and they got to work, picking Ed up by his hands and feet and dragging him outside to the back porch, leaving a trail of blood across the carpet. When they were finished Merle rubbed his palms together and started toward the backyard like he’d just done his good deed for the day, but stopped short when he realized Daryl wasn’t following him.

“What now?”

Daryl pointed to the bag of cash that his brother had managed to hang onto while they were moving Ed. “I told you, I ain’t taking her money.”

“Ok, now you’re really starting to piss me off,” Merle growled, stomping back onto the porch where Daryl was standing. “This whole night has been royally fucked up. And I’m not about to leave this goddamn house without something to show for it.”

“And I ain’t about to let you take it.” Daryl stepped up to his brother, lifting his chin to show that he was ready to fight if he had to.

They stared each other down for a good minute, Merle’s jaw working in that way it did when he was trying to figure his way out of something. But Daryl didn’t blink and Merle must have finally decided that it wasn’t worth it because he cocked his head to the side and smiled, shoving the bag hard against Daryl’s chest.

“Fine. You win,” he said, throwing his hands up over his head as he walked away. 

“Now get your ass in the truck and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Daryl slid the door open one more time and dropped the money inside before following his brother back out to the truck. When they climbed inside the cab, he spun the radio’s tuner to the AM station, hoping to hear some kind of explanation for the busy signal they kept getting, but there weren’t any news shows, just some guy who liked to hear himself talk playing obscure jazz records. He shut the radio off and focused on the empty streets as they headed back toward the highway. Merle was giving him the silent treatment and that suited Daryl just fine.

Twenty minutes later and less than ten miles from home they came around a corner and Daryl had to grip the dash to keep from flying through the windshield when Merle slammed on the brakes to keep from rear-ending a station wagon that was stopped in the lane ahead of them. A line of red taillights stretched out into the darkness as far as they could see.

“What the hell is this shit?” The door squealed as Merle got out and walked up to the station wagon, leaning on the driver’s side window. After a few minutes he came back and slid onto the bench seat. “Accident up ahead,” he said. “Three car pile up. Guy said they saw at least ten cruisers come by. Guess that explains why the damn pigs aren’t answering their phone tonight, huh?”

“Guess so,” Daryl mumbled, but something was nagging at the back of his mind and he had the urge to tell Merle to turn around even though there weren’t any better routes to get back to their trailer. Something about sitting out on the road like this felt dangerous. Like they were just waiting around for shit to go down again.

It wasn’t until a half an hour later, when cars up ahead started honking their horns frantically and backing into each other in desperate attempts to get out that he knew he was right.

“Dumbasses,” Merle muttered around the cigarette clenched between his teeth as cars sped past them in the opposite direction.

“We need to turn around,” Daryl said, pushing down the lock on his door as Merle pulled forward in the shortened line.

“The hell you say,” he lit the cigarette and cranked his window down a few inches. 

“We’ve been waiting too long now and I ain’t about to go another forty miles out of our way on some backwoods county roads. They’ll let us through soon enough.”  
Daryl pressed his body into the seat like he could force Merle to back up by sheer willpower alone. “I’m telling you, something ain’t right. We gotta get out of here.”

“Relax, man.” Merle turned and blew a plume of smoke out the window.

“No.” Daryl shook his head insistently. “Something’s going on. Too much weird shit is happening tonight.”

Merle laughed and tapped his cigarette on the side mirror. “Now don’t start getting all paranoid on me little brother. Pretty soon you’re gonna be bringing up that chupacabra again.”

“I ain’t being paranoid,” Daryl growled. “We just saw it for our damn selves! You think that shit with Ed was normal?”

The truck continued to roll forward as more and more cars left the line and Merle took a long drag of his cigarette. “He just wasn’t dead the first time, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah?” Daryl turned to his brother and cocked his head to the side. “How many people can take a bullet to the chest, lay there for five minutes and then get up, take five more point blank and still don’t go down until you bash their damn brains in? That don’t seem exactly normal to me.”

Merle winced at Daryl’s description but then rolled his shoulders in a half shrug. 

“Probably just adrenaline.”

“Adrenaline?” Daryl repeated incredulously. “Does adrenaline explain why 911 was busy? Because I’ve never heard of that shit either.”

“Just stop, alright?” Merle turned and jabbed his fingers at Daryl’s chest, ash dropping onto the seat between them. “There ain’t nothing going on except what you’re making up in your own thick head.”

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He knew just as well as his brother the real reason he didn’t want to turn around and take the long way home. The rest of his drugs were at the trailer and he was jonesing already. Merle’s habit had been picking up steam over the last few months and there wasn’t much Daryl could do but watch it happen, just like most things in his life.  
Red and blue lights slid across the windshield as they approached the scene. The wreck was nothing out of the ordinary- a small pickup sitting sideways in the ditch and a couple of sedans with crumpled hoods in the opposite lane. Merle turned to his brother and raised his eyebrows to say ‘I told you so’, but something still felt off. It took Daryl a few seconds to realize what it was. Aside from the wrecked cars and the ambulance and the cop cars, the road was empty.

“What the hell?” Daryl murmured, scanning the space between the abandoned vehicles for some sign of life.

Merle rolled his window down the rest of the way and leaned out into the darkness. “Hey! Anybody out there?”

When no answer came, he took his foot off the brake and let the truck roll forward, steering it carefully between two police cruisers and looking from side to side like he was expecting a sheriff to pop up any second. The tires crunched over broken glass and the knot in Daryl’s stomach tightened. This shit was definitely not normal.

Merle gave the ambulance a wide berth, the truck’s passenger side tires digging into the mud on the shoulder as they pulled around the vehicle’s wide open rear doors. Daryl glanced inside and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw an EMT in there, leaning over somebody on a gurney. Merle hit the brakes and called to the guy.

“Hey! Y’all might want to get a flagger out there. Somebody’s gonna get hurt. Don’t you have any goddamn protocols?”

The man jerked at the sound of Merle’s voice and turned slowly to face them.

“Jesus Christ!” Merle recoiled and grabbed at the window crank, turning it wildly as the EMT stumbled out of the ambulance and moved toward the truck. His jaw worked overtime, chewing on a piece of bloody tendon as he shuffled forward, arms outstretched and fingers grasping, his eyes that same opaque white as Ed’s had been.

They stared at him through the window, transfixed by his slow approach, until another sound drew their attention. A cop was standing at the front of their truck, the headlights illuminating a large chunk of meat that was missing from her neck. A wet growl bubbled up from her throat as she clawed at the hood of the truck and the screeching of her fingernails against the metal snapped Daryl out of his trance.

“Back up! Back up!” He reached for the gear shifter on the steering column and slammed it into reverse. “Go!”

Merle stomped on the gas and they bounced through the drainage ditch, their wheels spinning wildly through the mud. Once they were clear of the ambulance, Merle threw the truck into drive, cranking the wheel and lurching back up onto the highway, peeling out with a screech once the back tires made contact with the pavement.

They flew past several cars that were lining up behind the accident with Merle practically hanging out the drivers side window, waving wildly for them to turn around. Daryl tried the radio again and this time the familiar tones of the emergency broadcast system blared through the speakers. But this wasn’t a test.

The man who came on after the emergency signal said an unknown virus was causing people across the greater Atlanta area to experience psychotic episodes and advised residents to stay in their homes until further notice. He said that the virus appeared to be spread through contact with an infected person in the form of a bite or a scratch.

Daryl flipped on the dome light and he and Merle both examined their hands and arms for any signs of scratches from the fight with Ed. Carol’s face flashed across Daryl’s mind and he tried not to think about whether she might be infected. Ed was obviously beating on her when they’d broken in to the house. He could’ve scratched her. If she got infected and turned into one of those things she’d go after her daughter next. He shook his head to clear the image of the wide-eyed girl from his head. She wasn’t his problem and neither was Carol.

The headlights dipped as they turned off the state highway onto the county road. 

“Told you some shit was going on,” Daryl snapped, grabbing Merle’s cigarettes from the dash and shaking one out into his palm. His hands were so unsteady that it took him three tries to light the damn thing.

“So what? You want medal or something?”

Daryl took a deep drag and drummed his fingertips against the seat. “What I want is for you to shut your damn mouth and listen the next time I got a bad feeling about something.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Daryl shook his head at his brother and sucked on the cigarette again, the nicotine calming his nerves. “Whatever this shit is, I got a feeling it’s about to get a whole lot worse.”

Merle sniffed and gripped the steering wheel tighter, his mouth set in a hard line. “I’ve got that some feeling.”

Their trailer park was dark and quiet when they got home and Daryl felt a pang of jealousy for all the people who were still sleeping in their beds, completely unaware of the shit that was going down. Merle flipped on the TV as soon as they walked inside, adjusting the rabbit ears to get a signal while Daryl went in the bathroom to scrub every trace of Ed’s blood from his body.

When he’d finished and changed his clothes, he went back into the living room to find Merle perched on the edge of the couch, his forearms resting on his knees and his eyes focused on the screen. The outbreak was all over the news. Wall to wall coverage. Daryl sat down and they watched until the sun started to color the sky pink and he couldn’t help noticing that the anchors looked more and more nervous as the number of ‘incidents’, as they called them, kept rising.


	4. Four

They’d been holed up in the trailer for a week and things weren’t getting any better. If anything they were a hell of a lot worse. A recorded message was playing on a loop on all the major TV stations now that the news people had taken off for home or wherever they though they might have a better chance of surviving and the phone lines had been down for the last three days.

Daryl tipped up his bowl of top ramen and swallowed the last drops of broth that were left. They’d never been much for keeping the place stocked with groceries and the word in the trailer park was that all the local stores had been wiped out of food or closed down and looted already. His stomach growled, but there was nothing he could do. They’d been rationing what little food they had and that pack of ramen they’d just split was the last of it.

He wasn’t afraid of starving to death. He’d survived growing up in the Dixon household where grocery money was used for whiskey and cigarettes more than milk and bread, but people were saying that those dead thing were starting to gather up in packs now and he wasn’t exactly interested in running into a group of them out in the woods.

“We gotta get out of here,” Merle was pacing the living room floor again, practically wearing a groove into the threadbare carpet. “Figure out some way to get more food. More ammo. All that shit.”

Daryl could guess what Merle was really interested in getting- he’d been rationing his meth even more carefully than their food, but he was running out. And the panic in his eyes was hard to miss.

“It ain’t worth going out until we have to,” Daryl muttered, eyeballing Merle’s half of the ramen that was still steaming on the counter.

Merle moved over to the window and peeked out from behind the blanket that was tacked up as a makeshift curtain. “We need to get supplies and go up to the hunting cabin. No point in sitting around here twiddling our thumbs until these fuckers get desperate enough to come knocking and see what we’ve got.”

He had a point. The trailer park had its own set of rules even before the world went to shit and it was only a matter of time until people started turning on eachother. 

“Let’s go then,” he said, getting up and moving toward his room to start packing up his shit.

“No, I’m telling you, we’ve gotta get supplies first,” Merle said, dropping the blanket and turning back toward his brother. “It’s gonna be a long while before this blows over. Could be as much as six months. We need to be prepared.”

“We’ll hunt when we get up there,” Daryl said. “There’s enough out in the woods to get by.”

Merle shook his head and started pacing again. “I ain’t about to go live on twigs and berries. Had enough of that shit when we were kids.”

“Well what the hell you wanna do?” Daryl threw up his hands. “Go out and see if there’s anything left at the Piggly Wiggly? Risk getting bit by one of them things for your trouble? I’m telling you it ain’t worth it.”

“Nope, I’ve got a better idea,” Merle turned to him with a smile that made Daryl’s stomach twist.

“What?” He asked, already knowing that whatever Merle was about to suggest was probably about ten times worse that going out and looting a couple of empty stores.

“Now just hear me out,” Merle started, moving toward Daryl with his palms up in a display of innocence. “And before you start getting all high and mighty on me, I want you to remember that we’re in a god damn real life apocalyptic situation right now. The old rules don’t apply anymore. This is some real survival of the fittest type shit. Resources are scarce, but you and me are lucky, because we just happen to know where there’s a whole shitload of resources.”

Daryl squinted at his brother, trying to decipher what the hell he was getting at.  
Merle clapped Daryl on the shoulder and gave him his best used car salesman grin. 

“What I’m trying to say here, baby brother, is that old Ed Peletier was a son of a bitch, but he was right about one thing- when the end times are upon us, the almighty dollar will be replaced by a new currency… the MRE.” 

“No.” Daryl was shaking his head as soon as the words Ed Peletier came out of his brother’s mouth. “Nope. Come up with something else. I ain’t taking their food.”

Merle clucked his tongue at his brother in mock disappointment. “Now did I say anything about taking their food? No, I didn’t,” he answered before Daryl had the chance to respond. “What I’m talking about here is a transaction. An investment opportunity.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means is that we need supplies and she’s got ‘em,” Merle explained. “And there might be something she needs from us.”

“Like what?”

“Protection,” Merle answered with a triumphant smile. “A woman and a girl alone in this world? They ain’t gonna last long unless they’ve got somebody looking out for them.

“No.” Daryl folded his arms across his chest. “I told you I ain’t doing it. Anyway, you really think she’s gonna want protection from us? Maybe you forgot, but we broke into her house, scared the shit out of her and bashed her husband’s brains in. She sees us coming and she’s gonna run the other direction.”

Merle narrowed his eyes. “She’s the one who shot her damn husband in the first place. And if it weren’t for us bashing his brains in, he would have come after her and her kid. If anything, she owes us a damn favor.”

Daryl snorted in disgust. “You really are a piece of work, you know that?”  
His brother had come up with some roundabout logic to justify doing whatever the hell he wanted to do in the past, but this shit took the cake. Merle shrugged and sat down on one of their tattered vinyl barstools, spooning ramen noodles into his mouth.

“Suit yourself, but I’ll betcha dollars to donuts that we ain’t the only ones out there who know about old Ed’s hobby. It won’t be too long before somebody else comes knocking at her door. And it might be somebody whose intentions aren’t quite as honorable as ours, if you know what I mean.”

Carol’s face flashed through Daryl’s mind and he couldn’t help remembering the way her hands shook when she’d shot Ed. The way she’d broken down afterward. There was a good chance his brother was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Somebody else would come eventually and she might not have it in her to pull that trigger again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek while his brother finished his meal. He’d thought about Carol more than a few times over the past week, wondering how she was coping with everything. It was more trauma than most people had in a lifetime and there was a good chance she’d already taken her daughter and left the house anyway, maybe going to stay with family. His curiosity wrestled with his fear that they’d go to the house and find both of them dead, either by the virus or by somebody else who wanted what they had.

But eventually his curiosity won out.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”


	5. Five

Coming back was a mistake. Daryl could feel it as soon as they turned onto her street. This wasn’t some friend of the family they were checking up on. They’d tried to rob her and gotten her husband killed. It didn’t matter that they weren’t the ones who pulled the trigger, she wasn’t going to be happy to see them.

“Turn around,” he mumbled.

“What?” Merle pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“I said turn around,” he repeated, reaching for the key to start the truck again. “I changed my mind.”

Merle slapped his hand away and yanked the key out of the ignition, hopping out of the truck and slamming the door before Daryl could argue. His first instinct was to walk away and take his chances with the dead people back on the highway. Or hotwire the truck and leave Merle to find his own way home. But that would mean leaving Carol and her girl alone to deal with his shithead brother, so he climbed out of the truck, following him up the flagstone path and shifting uneasily as Merle rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

The sharp sound disrupted the eerie silence that permeated the street and Daryl wondered who might be watching them as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders rising up past his ears and his cheeks burning with shame.  
After a few agonizing seconds, the door opened just enough to reveal a chain lock and a pair of light brown eyes gazing back at them.

“Hey there, sugar,” Merle bent down with his hands on his knees to talk to the girl. “Is your momma home?”

Sophia’s eyes darted from Merle to Daryl and back, but she didn’t answer.

“We’re here to see if y’all need a hand.” Merle cooed in his sweetest voice. “Now, you go on and get your momma so we can talk, okay?”

Still nothing.

Merle opened his mouth to try again, but the door slammed abruptly in his face. Despite his irritation with his brother, Daryl had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh. At least somebody could see through Merle’s bullshit.

“That kid needs to learn some damn manners,” Merle grumbled.

“Forget it. Let’s get outta here,” Daryl said, inching toward the truck. “This place is too close to the city. Too many people around. Could be dangerous. Besides, the suburbs give me the creeps.”

“I told you, we ain’t going to the cabin without supplies.” Merle straightened his shoulders and turned to knock on the door again, but it opened before he could lift his hand a second time.

Carol stood in the doorway wearing a pair of leggings and a baggy tshirt, her eyes wide with shock and her pale skin shining with sweat.

Daryl’s heart stopped.

They’d watched all the news about the outbreak before everything went off the air. How people were supposed to look for flu-like symptoms, especially a high fever. He swallowed hard while Merle clamored backwards, almost falling on his ass in the flowerbed. Carol reached out a hand as if to steady him, but he recoiled, catching his balance on his own and squinting up at her.

“You sick?” Merle blurted out, stepping back to put a few more inches of space between them.

“What?” she asked, looking bewildered.

“You got the fever?” He gestured vaguely to the drops of sweat clinging to her temples.

“Oh.” She reached up to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of dirt behind. “No.”

The air rushed out of Daryl’s lungs. He wasn’t sure why, but there was no mistaking the weight that lifted off his shoulders when she said she was ok.

“If you’re sick you shouldn’t stay around the kid,” Merle continued like he hadn’t heard her. “People that get the fever turn into them things.”

“She said she ain’t sick,” Daryl snapped.

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head emphatically and then glanced back toward the living room, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I was… well, I was trying to…” she paused and then gave a defeated sigh, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I need to bury him. Nobody’s coming and I can’t wait any longer. I tried to get some of the neighbors to help me, but they won’t go near him because of the virus. And I can’t just leave him like that. I can’t.”

Merle smiled and straightened up as he shifted back into salesman mode. “Well, why don’t you let us help you with that?”

“Really?” she asked, reaching up with both hands to wipe away the tears that were starting to gather in the corners of her eyes, her voice wavering. “You’ll help me?”

“Sure will.” Merle said, giving her a quick wink. “Dixon brothers at your service.”

Daryl fought the urge to roll his eyes, but Carol just stared at them in confusion. “But why?”

“We wanted to make sure y’all were ok,” Merle said. “After everything that happened and all.”

Carol’s shoulders dropped as she considered the offer for a few seconds before nodding. “Thank you. I could use the help.”

She stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her, leading them around the side of the house to the backyard.

“Really, thank you so much for doing this,” she said, grimacing as they rounded the corner. “I honestly didn’t know what to do.” She pulled a bandana from her pocket and pressed it to her nose. “I was able to dig the hole, but I couldn’t move him by myself and it’s been so hot these last few days…”

The smell hit Daryl like a slap in the face once they got close enough to see Ed’s body, sprawled out part way down the porch steps, flies buzzing in and out from under the floral sheet that covered him. He shuddered thinking about Carol trying to take care of it on her own while her daughter waited inside, knowing her daddy was rotting in the backyard like a piece of meat.

Merle already had his nose buried in the crook of his elbow trying to block out the stench and Daryl forced himself to speak up before his brother had the chance to back out.

“We’ll take care of it,” he mumbled. “You can go inside if you want.”

Carol nodded, handing Daryl the bandana with a grateful smile before slipping past Ed to go inside. Merle snatched the square of fabric from Daryl’s hands as soon as she was gone and tied it around the back of his head, leaving his brother with nothing to block the overwhelming stench.

As Daryl moved toward the body, Merle stepped back, cocking his head to the side like he was evaluating the situation. It was clear the longer Daryl let that shit go on the better the chance the plan would involve him doing all the dirty work, so he spoke up before Merle could think on it too much.

“We doing this or what?” he demanded.

Merle shot him a look as he moved around to pick up Ed’s legs while Daryl grabbed his arms. “Alright, alright, you don’t have to get all pissy about it.”

The gasses that had blown up Ed’s body like a balloon didn’t make him any lighter. They were barely halfway to the hole Carol had dug in the far corner of the yard before Daryl felt his grip slipping.

“Hang on a minute,” he said, trying to adjust his hold. He propped up Ed’s shoulder with his knee, but when he grabbed his arm tighter, the rotting skin separated at the elbow with a wet squelch, leaving Daryl holding Ed’s forearm and hand while the rest of his body slumped back to the ground. He jumped backwards, dropping the disembodied arm in the grass and wiping his hands on his jeans frantically while Merle watched, laughing his ass off.

“Shut up, asshole.” Daryl clenched his jaw to keep from gagging, but when he tried to move back toward the body, the smell hit him again and he bent over with his hands on his knees, retching until all of the ramen noodles from lunch were spread out on the grass at his feet.

By the time he was done puking, Merle had stopped laughing and was holding Ed’s legs again. “Would you stop fucking around so we can get this done?” he said, his voice muffled behind the bandana.

Daryl spit one last time and turned to glare up at his brother before moving over to wrap his arms around Ed’s torso. This time they made it over to the hole without a problem and heaved his body in. Daryl went back with the shovel to pick up the arm next, tossing it into the grave before filling the whole thing back up with dirt.  
When they were done, he stood up and wiped his brow just in time to catch a glimpse of a neighbor peeking out from behind the blinds of his brick rambler. So he flipped the guy off, holding his finger up nice and high so he’d be sure to see it as they walked back over to the porch. Fucking asshole.

This time Merle just gave a courtesy knock as they slipped in through the slider to where Carol was waiting for them in the living room. The air conditioning hit Daryl as they walked inside, followed immediately by a wave of déjà vu that nearly knocked him off his feet. The living room looked exactly like it did the night they broke in, impossibly clean and organized, with the exception of a large area rug strategically placed over the spot where Ed had bled out. Something about knowing the dark red stain was still there made him woozy and he had to reach for the wall before his vision went black.

Carol rushed over, placing a hand on his shoulder to help steady him, but he flinched away from her touch, making her jump back like she’d been burned.

“Are you alright?” she asked, stepping away and wrapping her arms tightly around her waist while he staggered over to the couch and perched on the edge.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, hanging his head down between his knees until the dizziness passed.

“It’s the heat.” Merle offered. “Doesn’t help that we haven’t had much to eat since all this happened either.”

“You’re hungry?” she asked, turning automatically toward the kitchen. “I can make you something. We were just getting ready for dinner.”

“Don’t need to do that,” Daryl said, standing up too quickly and then grabbing the arm of the couch for support before he keeled over again.

Carol hurried to the refrigerator and came back with a glass of water, setting it down on the table in front of him and then backing away quickly like he was a wild animal.

“It’s really no trouble,” she said. “I’d like to do it. As a thank you. For helping us.”

Daryl chugged the water while Merle painted on a gracious smile, speaking for both of them as usual.

“Well, if you insist.”


	6. Six

The girl wouldn’t quit staring at him.

Daryl ducked his head and slurped up another forkful of spaghetti, doing his best to ignore the feeling of being watched while Merle and Carol carried the conversation. Sophia still hadn’t said a single word, even when they’d all introduced themselves.

It made sense.

He wouldn’t want to talk to them either if he was her. But the staring was still freaking him out.

“Thank you again,” Carol said. “I really can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Don’t mention it, sugar.” Merle used a fork and spoon to twirl his pasta neatly. “Like I said, we wanted to make sure you gals were ok.”

Carol nodded meekly. “Still, I wish you’d let me pay you for the work.”

“Don’t need that,” Daryl cut in before his brother could say otherwise.

Merle shot Daryl a quick glare, but then put on a smile before turning back to Carol. 

“He’s right. We didn’t come here to take your money.”

“Thank you,” she said, picking at the food on her plate. “I guess cash isn’t much use right now anyway, with all the stores being closed.”

“Mmm hmm.” Merle clucked his tongue. “Sounds like everywhere from here to Kentucky’s been picked clean by the damn looters too.”

“Really?” she said, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “It’s that bad?”

Merle nodded sagely. “Folks are losing their shit out there. And there ain’t no sign of things blowing over soon.” He wiped at the corners of his mouth with a fancy cloth napkin. “We might be in for the long haul with this one.”

“My god.” Carol shot a worried glance in Sophia’s direction, pressing her hands against her cheeks. “I can’t believe this is happening. Why can’t they just quarantine everyone with the virus so we can get back to normal?”

“Cops got overrun,” Merle answered. “Hospitals too. All these people getting sick and then infecting even more.” He shook his head slowly. “We saw it for ourselves. After we left here that night to go get help. Ran into an accident on the road and couldn’t get through cuz the ambulances were blocking the damn road. But all the people were long gone. Only thing left was one of them walkers chewing on some poor son of a bitch on a gurney.”

Carol cringed and held her hand up for him to stop, looking pointedly at Sophia.

“Oh, right.” Merle turned to the girl. “Sorry sweet pea. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Sophia just stared at him.

“Anyway,” Merle continued. “That’s why it took us so long to get back here to check on y’all. We weren’t sure if the roads would be clear.”

Daryl stared at his brother in disbelief. Merle had always been full of shit, but this was a new low. Carol didn’t seem to notice though. She was looking at his brother like he was some kind of damn hero instead of a conniving redneck piece of trash.

“I really appreciate you coming back,” she said. “I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you.”

Merle made a big show out of saying no thanks were needed, going on about how he and Daryl just wanted to do the right thing and a whole lot of other bullshit before stopping suddenly like an idea had just occurred to him.

“Come to think of it, maybe we can make an arrangement,” he said. “Something like a win-win kinda thing.” 

Merle used the opportunity to launch into his sales pitch, Carol nodding along politely while he suggested that they stick together for a bit, just until things started to settle back down. It wasn’t safe for a woman and a girl to be alone right now, he explained, and the brothers could provide them with some protection.

When he finally stopped talking and Carol agreed without hesitation, Daryl choked so hard on his mouthful of noodles that Merle had to reach over and slap him on the back until he could breathe again.  
#  
“What about going up to the cabin?” Daryl demanded as soon as they’d escaped to the living room, keeping his voice low so Carol and Sophia wouldn’t hear him while they finished washing up the dishes.

“Look, we need supplies and they’ve got ‘em.” Merle whispered. “Nobody said anything about staying here forever. Just long enough to get what we need.”

“I already told you I ain’t stealing from them.”

“Did I say steal?” Merle stepped in closer, his eyes flashing with a warning for Daryl not to fuck things up for them. “We’ve got a deal with her. Food in exchange for protection and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. For now. And if things change down the road, then we’ll figure that out when we get there.”

Daryl shook his head and paced back and forth across the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I’m telling you, I ain’t staying here long.”

Merle flopped down on the couch and propped his dirty boots up on the glass coffee table, making himself at home like usual. “And I ain’t asking you to. I told you we’ll go up to the cabin as soon as we get the supplies we need to make it through.”

Daryl huffed out a breath that they both knew meant he was giving in and sat down next to his brother on the couch. Merle slapped him on the knee with a shit-eating grin. “That’s the spirit. Now, there’s just one more thing. I’ve gotta make a quick run into the city. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours…”

“What the fuck?” Daryl said it loud enough that the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen stopped for a few seconds. “What the hell do you need to go into the city for?”

Merle sucked his teeth and shrugged. “Just a few necessities, that’s all.”

“You wanna explain just how exactly that fits into the deal you just made? Kinda hard for us to keep them safe if we’re off running around in the city buying meth ain’t it?”

“Keep your damn voice down,” Merle said, glancing at the archway that led to the kitchen. “I ain’t breaking the deal. You’re gonna stay here and keep an eye on them while I go pick up my shit. I’ll be back by morning. No harm done.”

“Uh uh. No.” Daryl shook his head adamantly. “I ain’t staying here alone with them.”

Merle’s grin was back. “What’s the matter baby brother? You afraid of a couple of little girls?”

“Ain’t afraid of shit,” he grumbled. “But you should be. Going into the city means more people and more of those fucking dead things.”

“Don’t worry about it bro. I’ll be in and out, lickety split.” Merle leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head. “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”


	7. Seven

Merle didn’t come back the next morning.

Or the next.

Or the morning after that.

His brother was a tough son of a bitch, but once the better part of a week had passed, Daryl had to admit there was a decent chance he was dead. Carol definitely thought so. He could tell by all the worried looks she kept giving him. But he knew his brother and a three-day bender was nothing. Hell, that was just a typical weekend for Merle. Under normal circumstances Daryl wouldn’t even start to worry until he’d been gone at least two weeks. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

He shifted in the wooden kitchen chair and focused on the gun parts spread out on the table in front of him, his fingers twitching nervously as he cleaned each piece. She was watching him again. He could feel her eyes on him. Curious, like she was trying to figure him out. Like he was a mystery, a puzzle she was trying to solve.

Maybe she was hoping he’d just leave. Her deal was with Merle, after all, not him. His brother could be an asshole, but he also had a silver tongue when he found it useful. Maybe she was disappointed to be left alone with the brother who could barely do more than grunt his thanks when she served him a meal.

He’d go if she wanted him to. Pack up his shit and disappear without her having to ask twice. That was the original plan anyway. The cabin was waiting for him and he wasn’t worried about foraging enough food to get by.

But there was still a chance that Merle might come back and he’d be madder than a hornet if found out that Daryl had bailed on him.

There was also the fact that radio transmissions had stopped two days ago and every sign indicated that the cavalry wasn’t coming. They were going to be on their own for a long time. And for some reason the thought of Carol and Sophia trying to navigate a post-apocalyptic world alone made his stomach churn. Not that he thought he was some kind of hero, but there was safety in numbers and he couldn’t just leave them.

Carol finished washing the last of the dishes from supper and wrung out the dishrag, draping it over the faucet before coming over to the table and pulling out a chair. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she sat down, folding her hands in her lap and casting a glance toward the living room where Sophia was playing quietly with her dolls.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

He shrugged and picked up another piece, running the oiled rag along the metal while she waited patiently for a real answer.

“Alright,” he finally managed.

She nodded and stared down at her hands, twisting the gold band that hung loosely from her ring finger. “I just want you to know that, um, if you want to look for him, it’s ok.”

He looked up sharply, trying to decipher the expression on her face. Maybe this was her way of telling him she wanted him to leave. “Yeah, been thinking about that.” He paused to gauge her reaction, but she kept her eyes down, still twirling that ring. It seemed strange that she was still wearing it after everything that had happened, but he’d never been married so he couldn’t judge. Maybe the idea of taking it off had her feeling some kind of way.

“I guess I’ll probably go looking for him,” he continued. “See if he got stuck somewhere or…” he trailed off, knowing they both knew what came after the ‘or’. 

“Of course,” she said, nodding resolutely. But the forced smile that came next gave him the feeling that his answer wasn’t the one she was hoping for.

“Don’t want to leave you high and dry or nothing,” he said, scrambling to backtrack. “If you’re worried about being here on your own…”

“We’ll be alright,” she cut him off before he could make an even bigger ass of himself than he already was. “It’s been pretty quiet here. We’ll be ok.”

She was smiling again but he could see the fear in her eyes as she went back to nervously twisting that ring.

“You sure?” It was the closest he was willing to come to asking her outright if she wanted him to stay. Just as much as he knew he’d be out the door in five seconds flat if she asked him to go, he also knew he couldn’t refuse if she asked him to stay with them.

She nodded. “He’s your brother. I understand.”

Merle was blood; that part was true, but he’d made his choice and it was the wrong one, as usual. And the feeling that Daryl was fucking up yet again kept nagging at the back of his mind. But she was the one that brought it up, so she must want him out of her hair.

“When are you leaving?” she asked, glancing over to Sophia again. The girl was still holding the dolls, but she wasn’t moving them around anymore and her head was tilted just slightly to the side.

He shrugged and glanced out the kitchen window. The bike was sitting in the driveway where Merle had unloaded it from the bed of the truck three days ago, the chrome reflecting orange light from the setting sun. “Guess I’ll head out in the morning. First light.”

“Alright.” She stood up and cast her eyes around the kitchen. “I’ll pack you something to eat, just in case you run into trouble.”

“Don’t have to do that.”

She shook her head as she pulled open the pantry door and started gathering enough food to last him a week. “It won’t hurt anything to be prepared. Are you sure it’s safe to take the bike? It could be dangerous if you run into any of those things.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Bike makes it easier to get around all them dead cars out on the highway. That might be what’s holding Merle up.”

It was more likely that a bag of meth was holding Merle up than a traffic jam, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, he didn’t have another option. Merle had the truck and he sure as hell wasn’t taking Carol’s car and leaving them without a vehicle if they needed to get out of there for some reason.

She nodded and went back to filling a grocery bag with MREs while he re-assembled the gun, the knowledge that Carol and Sophia would be alone tomorrow filling his gut with a sense of dread that he couldn’t explain.  
#  
“Here you go.” Carol held out the stack of neatly folded blankets like he might bite her if she got too close. It had quickly become their nightly routine and even though he wondered why she bothered to put them away every morning, he didn’t question it. Instead, he ducked his head in thanks while she fluttered around the room like a moth, double checking the locks on the doors and shutting off lights. When there was nothing left to do she moved toward the stairs, but hesitated at the bottom, her hand resting lightly on the bannister. The weight of her eyes on him made him squirm.

“What?”

She flinched and he cursed himself for barking at her like that. There was a good chance this was the last time he would see her and he was acting like an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mumbled at the floor.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I just…” she paused and glanced upstairs where she’d sent Sophia to go brush her teeth and get ready for bed. “I just wanted to say thank you. For staying this long. I’m sure you’ve probably been worried sick about your brother. But I wanted you to know that we’re grateful.” She gave him a thin smile. “I’ve actually been able to sleep these last few nights, knowing there’s somebody else in the house.”

He scoffed. “Even somebody who broke in last week?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “I know the circumstances are strange, but that hasn’t scared me. You and your brother being here that night saved my life. And I knew that if you wanted to hurt us you would have already.”

He let his eyes drift toward the second floor. “The kid don’t seem so sure about that.”

“She will be.” The confidence in her voice was undermined by the worry in her eyes, but he didn’t dwell on that too long. He was too busy noticing the implication that she expected him to come back, like Sophia was going to have more time to get to know him. “It’s been a lot to deal with all at once. First her dad and now all this.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Talking about feelings and shit wasn’t his strong suit to begin with. But since he was leaving tomorrow and they were already in awkward territory he figured he might as well ask her the question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since the night they met.

“You feel bad about it?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation; like that same question had been tumbling around in her own mind this whole time too. “He was my husband. And there was a time in my life when I loved him, even if I can’t remember it now. I also know there’s a good chance I’m going to hell for what I did. But I didn’t have a choice. He would’ve killed me. Maybe not that night, but it was only a matter of time. And Sophia would have been left alone with him.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “But then you two showed up and gave me a chance. I think it was fate.”

This time he snorted out loud at the idea that he and Merle were somehow chosen as instruments of the divine. “You’re saying fate sent a couple of white trash assholes to rob your house?”

She gave him a shy smile before turning to go upstairs. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”  
#  
He woke up at dawn to the smell of coffee brewing and for a split second his heart surged, imagining that she’d gotten up early to see him off. But when he wandered into the kitchen and found it empty, he realized that she’d just set the timer on the electric pot. He poured the coffee into the large thermos she’d left on the counter and took a sip, staring out the kitchen window at the neighbor’s yard where the automatic sprinklers were just turning on like this was another normal day.

For a minute he wondered what it would have been like to live in a place like this with somebody like Carol. He imagined himself getting up early to head into work at a mechanic shop, maybe meeting up with her later for lunch when she came into the city to run errands, spending his weekends building a treehouse for Sophia in the backyard.

He shook his head, pushing away the stupid fantasy. Even if Carol was willing to put up with him under the current circumstances, there’s no way she would have ever been interested before the world went to shit. Because he wasn’t the type of guy who got up for a nine to five. He was the type of guy who sat around in his trailer all day, waiting for his brother to tell him what kind of stupid shit they were going to get into.

The bag of food she’d packed was waiting for him in the same spot on the kitchen table where she’d left it last night, but he couldn’t make himself take it. Instead, he grabbed an empty milk jug out of the recycling bin and rinsed it out, leaving it under the tap to fill while he went back to the living room and pulled the gun out of his pack. He left it on the kitchen windowsill above the sink, somewhere out of Sophia’s reach where he knew Carol would see it right away.

They hadn’t gone over the details of how to use it, but she’d already pulled that trigger once, so he knew she’d be able to do it again if she had to. And it made him feel better knowing they’d have some protection while he was gone. If he did find Merle, his brother would give him hell for leaving it, especially since Ed probably had a stockpile of guns somewhere in the house already, but he and Carol hadn’t talked about that either and he was better with his crossbow anyway.

Once his water jug was full, he grabbed it along with the thermos and his pack and went outside, locking the door behind him. The bike took a few tries to start, but once it warmed up he headed out to the highway, the cul-de-sac quickly disappearing behind him as he sped through the purple morning light.  
#  
The highway was cluttered with abandoned vehicles and he wondered how Merle had managed to get through with the truck. There were some places where a full size vehicle could squeeze through on the shoulder, but they were pretty few and far between. The bike made quick work of it though and the only thing he had to watch out for was the occasional dead body wandering around. They were slow and clumsy, which made them easy to avoid, but there were enough of them that his mind kept drifting back to Carol and Sophia.

It was only a matter of time before some of them would make their way into Carol’s neighborhood and the image of those things trying to claw their way into the house while Carol and Sophia huddled inside made his stomach turn. One thing was for sure, he needed to get his ass into the city, find his dumbass brother and get back before the shit hit the fan more than it already had.

The closer he got to Atlanta, the thicker the traffic jam became, cars and trucks squeezed in so tight that he had to slow way down just to get between them without taking his head off with somebody’s side mirror. He kept on that way until he was only a few miles outside of the city, cursing Merle’s sorry ass the whole time.

He’d just come around a bend in the road when he stopped short, the familiar chipped beige paint of Merle’s truck catching his attention from the grassy shoulder up ahead. He let the bike idle as he rolled forward, bracing himself for what he was about to see. Once he was less than ten feet away, he shut the bike off and flipped down the kickstand, taking a deep breath and walking toward the truck.

The back wheels were stuck in deep ruts and dried mud caked the fenders. As he rounded the side of the vehicle and approached the driver’s side door that was hanging wide open, his breath caught in his throat. He thought he’d prepared himself for the idea that Merle might be dead, but now the possibility of actually finding his brother’s body was enough to make his stomach clench with fear. He leaned forward carefully to peer inside, letting out a breath when he found it empty. But his relief was short-lived.

The dash and the inside of the windshield were both splattered with blood. And when he moved around to the front of the truck, there was another wide smear across the hood. He told himself it might not be Merle’s blood, but deep down he knew it must be.

“Merle!” he yelled on the off chance that his brother had managed to find somewhere to hole up and lick his wounds.

The only answer was a groan from the highway behind him. The dead woman was at least a hundred feet away, shambling forward in torn and bloody running clothes.

“Merle!” he tried again. “You out here?”

Still no answer, but this time his attention was drawn to a humming sound that took him a few seconds to place. It was coming from above and when he turned his face to the sky, he saw them; three military jets flying in formation over the city, like the kind they used to see at the air shows when they were kids. At least the feds still had their shit together.

When the bombs fell, the shockwaves from the explosions nearly knocked him off his feet. He stumbled backward, watching the fireballs mushroom into the air, followed by plumes of thick black smoke.

He called for Merle a couple more times as he rushed back to the bike, but there was no answer. By the time he got it started and turned around, the highway was crawling with dead people, drawn out by the sound and the flames that were already starting to envelop the city. They moved forward with complete focus, quickly forming a herd that was growing by the second.

His heart hammered as he gunned the bike, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the grips that his knuckles turned white. A singular goal overtook his mind. He had to get back to them. Now.


	8. Eight

He was going to die out here.

There were so many of them. It didn’t seem possible. Maybe the virus spread faster than anybody thought. Maybe he was infected too. Maybe the whole fucking world was dead already.

Sunlight flickered through the canopy of trees, creating a strobe of light and shadow like an old film reel; like he was trapped in some cheap B movie where the chase would inevitably end in a gruesome shot of his body lying askew in the knee-high weeds, walkers dropping to the ground all around him to rip at his flesh with their bare hands.

Twigs snapped beneath his feet and vines tore at his ankles, his staccato breathing a sharp contrast against the constant thrum of their groans. The air was thick with smoke and ash, making his eyes burn and his lungs ache with each step. A walker lunged at him from the side, knocking him off balance before he shifted and plunged his knife into its ear. He’d learned to do it quick and keep moving. If he stood still too long they started to pile up on him and he couldn’t risk that. He had to get back.

A voice deep inside of him told him to give up. Just lay down on the forest floor and let these things finish him off. What did it matter anyway? There was no coming back from this. No way the world would ever be the same. But then he saw Carol’s face, huddled in some corner of the house with Sophia pressed to her side while walkers beat at the doors and windows.

Sweat stung his eyes as he looked up to check the sun, making sure he was still headed in the right direction. He’d abandoned the bike once the highway was overrun and had tried to escape into the woods, but these fucking things were everywhere. They didn’t stop. And they didn’t get tired.

A few more of them staggered through the trees to his left, far enough that he wasn’t going to waste his energy on them, but too close for comfort. He picked up his speed, willing his legs to move even though every muscle in his body was screaming for him to stop.

It wasn’t until he reached the greenbelt behind Carol’s neighborhood that he finally paused and turned around, using the last of his strength to load the crossbow before facing the walkers that were still trailing behind him. He had to take care of them first. Couldn’t risk leading them to her doorstep.

#

He stumbled through her backyard just as the sun was setting, his clothes soaked with blood and guts and sweat. “Carol?” he yelled, pounding on the sliding glass door. “Sophia?”

The answering silence made his heart sink. 

“Carol!”

He cupped his hands against the glass, bile rising in his throat when he saw the mess inside. Pictures had been knocked off the walls and pieces of shattered dishes littered the floor in front of the china cabinet. He yanked on the door handle, but it was locked. A quick trip around to the front door found the same. He went back to the slider and when they still didn’t answer after more frantic banging, he grabbed his crossbow and slammed the butt against the glass, shattering it on the first blow and kicking the shards out of the way as he rushed inside.

He moved through the empty living room and kitchen first and then rushed upstairs, keeping his knife drawn as he checked each room, the anticipation of finding them dead making it almost impossible to breathe. Each closed door held the possibility that they could be in there, already eaten by those things, or worse, turned.  
When he found the last room empty, he stumbled back downstairs, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. They must have left. Must have been waiting for the opportunity to get away from him.

“Carol?” he called again, his voice breaking on the last syllable. Flashbacks from when he was a kid surged into his mind and brought him to his knees, all those nights he spent alone when his old man disappeared on a bender and didn’t pay the electric bill, leaving him alone in the dark while wind howled outside and he shivered under his blanket.

He sunk further down into the carpet, drawing his knees up to his chest and rocking back and forth. Carol had told him she wasn’t afraid of him. Had talked like she planned on him coming back. But that must have been a trick, a way to placate him so he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her or the kid. He’d seen his momma do it a thousand times when his daddy came home piss drunk and ready for a fight. She’d talk sweet to him and smile in that way that said there was a little secret between them. Like he was special because she only had eyes for him. It never worked for long. Usually bought them just enough time for him and Merle to slip out of the house before his daddy really started raging. That must’ve been what Carol was doing. That must be how she saw him. Just another asshole who would hurt her sooner or later. Maybe that’s who he was. Maybe she saw something in him- some mean streak buried deep inside- that he didn’t even see himself.

He buried his face in his hands and let the tears stream down his cheeks. His brother was gone, Carol and Sophia were gone, and he was completely alone.

#

He dreamed that he was back in the forest. The sun blazed directly overhead, unmoving even though he was sure he’d been running for hours, making it impossible to find the right direction. Indecision slowed him down and soon the walkers were swarming him, inching closer and closer with their teeth bared, the flesh sagging off their bones. He slashed at them with his knife, but they kept coming, reaching out with rotting fingers to pull at his clothes and claw at his skin. He pushed them away, but his hands found soft skin instead of the brittle bones he’d expected.

“Shh, it’s alright.”

His eyes flew open, blinking rapidly against the dazzling sunlight. Carol hovered over him, her pale face drawn with concern, her hands clutching the hem of his shirt that was pushed up to his neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” he barked, scrambling away from her and yanking his shirt back down where it belonged.

“I’m sorry, I…” she stuttered. “I was checking for bites. I couldn’t wake you and I thought maybe…”

“Ain’t bit.” He cast around the room, trying to figure out how long he’d been out. 

“Must have fallen asleep. You weren’t here. I came back, but you were gone.”

She nodded. “We were in the basement. There was an explosion. I didn’t know what was happening, so we went down there to hide.”

“And you couldn’t hear me hollering for you?” he demanded. “You couldn’t hear me breaking through the damn door?!”

She flinched and his chest flooded with guilt, but he was too embarrassed to apologize.

“No, it’s sound proofed,” she explained, wrapping her arms around her stomach in that protective posture she always seemed to fall into. “He had it built that way.”

It was only then that he noticed the large white bandage sticking out from the collar of her shirt.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, striding forward and gripping her shoulders with both hands. “You hurt?”

Her eyes went wide when he touched her but she didn’t answer.

“I said, are you hurt?” he repeated shaking her out of her trance. “Are you and Sophia ok?”

She nodded frantically, shrinking away from his grip. “Yes, we’re fine,” she stammered, casting a fearful look at the places where his fingers had marked her blouse with dirt and blood. “When we heard the explosion it was like an earthquake in here. A picture frame hit my shoulder.”

Relief and panic flooded through him in alternating waves. By some miracle, he’d made it back and they were still alive. Now he had to make sure they stayed that way.   
He ran into the kitchen and shut the blinds, double checking the locks on the front door while he was there.

“Help me move this,” he ordered, picking up one end of a china cabinet and dragging it toward the sliding glass door that he’d broken through last night. More dishes crashed to the floor and shattered but he kept moving.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trailing after him.

“Gotta get this blocked off,” he grunted, his feet slipping on broken glass.

“Why? What happened?” she asked, pushing against the other end of the cabinet. “Is someone coming?”

“You haven’t seen ‘em yet?” he asked, tipping the couch up on its end and wedging it against the cabinet, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair.

“Who?!” Her voice was bordering on panic now.

“The herds.” He moved back over to the kitchen window and peered out from the blinds he’d just closed, his heart hammering.

“Herds of what? Animals?” she asked, following him into the kitchen and wringing her hands. “What are you talking about?”

He turned back to her and pressed his mouth into a grm line. “Walkers.”

“Herds?” she whispered, sinking down into a kitchen chair and pressing her hands to her mouth. “There are that many of them?”

He nodded and swallowed hard, the adrenaline still coursing through his body. 

“There’s hundreds of them, thousands. Shit, probably millions by now. The bombs drew them in.”

“Bombs?” She cast a nervous glance toward the small doorway under the stairs, camouflaged by wood paneling and only visible now because it was cracked open a few inches where Sophia was peeking out. “Someone set off bombs?” Carol murmured, almost like she was talking to herself instead of him. “That was the explosion?”

“The feds,” he confirmed. “Atlanta’s on fire.”

#

The basement was surprisingly bright considering that it didn’t have a single window. Battery-powered fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling in neat rows, giving off a faint buzzing sound that was making his head hurt already. It didn’t help that the kid was staring at him either. She’d been hunkered down on the futon across from his spot on the floor for the past two hours, pretending to play some kind of memory game with a deck of cards, but mostly just watching him when she thought he couldn’t see.

Carol was over in the kitchen area heating up a couple jars of something on a little propane hotplate and his stomach was growling already. He bent his head and finished wiping the last of the dirt from his crossbow, checking the tension one more time before setting it aside. When he looked up again, he met Sophia’s eyes for a split second before she went back to shuffling the cards on the small wooden coffee table.

“You like card tricks?” he asked, scooting forward slowly until he was sitting across the table from her. Maybe giving her something else to focus on would get her to stop drilling a hole through his head with all that staring. Besides, kids were usually easier to talk to than other people anyway.

She responded with a shrug, but moved her hands away from the deck so he could reach out and grab them. He shuffled them a couple times, the fancy way that Merle always liked to do when he was showboating at one of his poker games, and then fanned them out in his hands, offering them to her.

“Pick one.”

She hesitated, but then finally reached out and plucked a card from the middle of the deck.

“Alright, the first thing you gotta do is memorize that card. Get a good, clear picture of it in your head and then put it back, anywhere you want.”

After squinting at the card for a few seconds, she carefully slid it back into the deck and watched while he shuffled them again. Finally, he set them back on the table and cut the deck in half, pulling a card from the top of the pile and laying it face up in front of her.

Sophia looked at the card and then back at him with her eyebrows raised.

“What?” he asked. “That ain’t it?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Well, shit,” he mumbled. “I guess I’ll have to work on that one some more.”

Before he could try again, Carol came over with three steaming bowls of stew balanced in her arms and he jumped up to help her. She sat down on the futon next to Sophia and offered again for him to have a seat in the la-z-boy, but he’d be damned if he was going to sit in that fucker’s chair. The floor was more his style anyway.

They finished dinner quickly, Carol insisting on getting him a second helping even though he told her he could get it himself, and afterward, she and Sophia did the dishes while he made up his bed on the futon.

Before Carol took Sophia into the other room for the night, she lit a few candles and switched off the fluorescents. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but once they did he was grateful for the change. Kicking his shoes off, he stretched out on the couch with the deck of cards balanced on his chest. He’d seen his brother do that trick a thousand times, but he must have missed a step somewhere.

When the bedroom door opened a few minutes later and she came back, he jumped up so fast he almost kicked the coffee table over, making the candle wobble in its dish.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head, looking embarrassed. “Nothing, I’m fine. We’re fine. I was just hoping we could talk for a few minutes. But if I’m bothering you I can…” she trailed off, starting back toward the bedroom before he could answer.

“No, that’s… I mean yeah,” he stuttered, his face turning three shades of red. “We should probably talk about shit.”

“Alright.” She went over to the kitchen area and dug around in a plastic tote full of dried beans, pulling out a bottle of wine. “Do you mind?”

“Nah. Knock yourself out,” he said, then added an awkward laugh just to make sure she didn’t think he was being a dick or something.

“Want some?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

She gave him a relieved smile and reached up to grab two coffee cups from the upper shelf, then came over and sat on the edge of the futon. Maybe she didn’t like sitting in Ed’s chair either.

“He never wanted me to drink,” she explained, twisting a corkscrew into the top of the bottle. “But I knew I’d need this if I ever had to actually stay down here with him for an extended length of time.”

He snorted as she poured the wine and handed him his cup. “Pretty ballsy. You weren’t worried he’d find it?”

She took a sip and shrugged, wrapping both hands around the cup like it was hot tea. 

“I got pretty good at hiding things. There were certain places he never looked.”

A shadow passed behind her eyes and he tried not to think about what kind of memory caused it.

“So,” she started, changing the subject. “Was there any sign of Merle?”

He shook his head, biting at the cuticle on his thumb. “Found the truck.”

She sat up straighter. “You did?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t there though.”

“Oh.”

He knew what that ‘oh’ meant. She thought his brother was dead. If he was being honest with himself, he probably thought so too. Merle was one tough son of a bitch and that gave him some hope that he might be alive out there somewhere, but even Merle couldn’t survive a bomb being dropped on him. He still couldn’t believe what he’d seen out there.

He took a long drink of wine for courage and cleared his throat. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking. I know you’ve got a good set up here and everything. You’ll be able to get by for a long while on the supplies you’ve got. Don’t even have to worry too much about the herds as long as you stay out of sight down here.”

She nodded slowly like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But the shit I saw going down out there? The bombs?” He set his cup down on the table and wiped the sweat from his palms onto his jeans. “It won’t be long before they do it again. Don’t think that was the last of it, not by a long shot. May not be safe here, being so close to the city and all.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “You think that might happen? You really think they might drop bombs on us?”

“They did it to Atlanta. Probably figured the city was overrun and they might as well cut their losses. See if they could get it under control that way. But I’m telling you, they ain’t controlling jack shit.”

She took a shuddering breath and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “What can we do? I don’t want to die down here.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to work up the nerve to get out the next part. “That’s what I was wanting to talk to you about. Don’t want to tell you what to do or nothing, but I’ve got a place. A cabin way out in the woods. It ain’t much, but it could be safer there. Somewhere to ride this out. Far enough away from the city and all these dead fuckers. High enough in the hills that the herds shouldn’t have any reason to come through there. You could come out there with me if you want to.”

When she didn’t respond right away, he started to backtrack, stumbling over the words to get them out before she could say anything to make him feel like a bigger jackass. “Forget I said anything. Probably a stupid idea anyway. You’ve got all the supplies here and the whole setup and everything. Gonna be best for you two to just hunker down here for a while.”

She reached out and put her hand on his knee, lightly, and just long enough to get him to take a breath so she could answer. “No. I think you’re right. I think we should get away from the city. We can start packing up first thing in the morning.”

A wave of relief rushed through him and he couldn’t stop himself from giving her a half smile. “Alright. I guess we’ve got a plan then.”

She took another sip of her wine, returning his smile over the rim of her cup. “I guess we do.”


	9. Nine

Carol watched from the corner of her eye as Daryl tapped his fingers against the jeep’s dashboard, casting nervous glances over his shoulder every few minutes to the backseat where Sophia sat clutching her doll tightly to her chest. His nerves seemed to be getting worse the farther away they got from the house and she had to admit it was starting to affect her too. The highway had been cluttered with cars from the time they left the cul-de-sac, but now they couldn’t drive for more than five minutes without him getting out to push.

“Shoulda gone up ahead alone to make sure the roads were clear,” he said as she steered carefully across a drainage ditch to get around an abandoned minivan parked diagonally across two lanes. “Was stupid to come out here like this.”

“We’ll get there,” she said, managing to keep her voice upbeat even though her mouth was dry and her heart was hammering in her chest. When he looked up she gave a subtle nod to Sophia.

He corrected himself quickly. “Yeah, we will. Not too much farther now and we’ll be able to get off the highway. County roads should be less crowded.”

“Did you hear that sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.” Carol reached back to give her daughter a reassuring pat on the knee.

Sophia nodded, but her eyes were set on the floor and her shoulders were pulled up tight to her ears. She still wasn’t speaking and even though Carol had told Daryl that it was just a matter of time before she did, she was starting to wonder. Ed was a monster who deserved to die, but Carol couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better to just let him kill her a long time ago. He would’ve come up with some way to make it look like an accident. Maybe that way Sophia could have been spared the trauma of seeing her father in their living room with six bullet holes through his chest and his brains splattered across the wall.

The sound of her daughter’s sobs when she saw Ed that night and the way she pulled away when Carol reached for her would be etched into her memory forever. Maybe that was her punishment from God for what she did. Because Sophia being scared of her was the one thing Carol couldn’t bear.

She glanced up to the rearview mirror again, giving her daughter a bright smile when their eyes met, but Sophia just pressed her lips together and crinkled her nose it that way that meant she was trying to stop herself from crying. It was a look she had seen on her daughter’s face too many times over the years and it had been happening more and more lately.

Right now Carol wanted nothing more than to climb into the backseat and pull Sophia into her lap, wrapping her arms around her until she felt safe enough to let those tears out; safe enough to be vulnerable. But there would be time for that later once they made it to the cabin. Right now she had to focus.

She feathered the brake as they approached a tangle of cars up ahead and shifted into neutral, setting the emergency brake when they came to a stop.

“Sit tight. Be right back,” Daryl said, climbing out of the passenger seat and moving closer to the abandoned cars.

She watched what had quickly become a familiar routine. He approached each vehicle slowly, gun drawn, carefully checking to make sure it was empty before opening the driver’s side door and pushing it onto the shoulder. His arms shook with the effort, straining to make a path wide enough for the jeep to squeeze through. She’d offered to help, over and over, but he’d refused, insisting that it was safer for her to stay in the car and giving her strict instructions to leave if things went sideways. No hesitation, he’d told her, just turn around and drive like hell back to the house. She’d nodded when he said that, but she wasn’t sure if she’d actually be able to do it if the time came.

Even without her help he was making steady progress, moving farther and farther away as they waited in the idling jeep at the end of the line. He’d warned her not to follow him in until he had it all cleared so they wouldn’t risk getting trapped if a herd cut off their escape route. But her nerves ramped up when she could barely make out his silhouette in the distance. It was an unsettling feeling to know that there was absolutely no one they could call for help if they needed it. No cavalry to come rushing in. They were it. 

He was on the last car when it happened, crouched down onto the floorboard of the SUV that must have had a locked steering wheel, trying to hotwire the thing. She’d seen him do it a couple times already. It took too much time to do it for every car, but it was a skill that came in handy on the ones that were especially hard to move. But the position he was in with his head under the dash must have made it impossible for him to hear the walker shuffling toward him.

Carol opened the door of the jeep and cupped her hands to her mouth, calling his name, but he didn’t move. The dead man moved closer, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and his head lolling as he caught sight of Daryl’s back.

“Daryl!” she screamed again. The memory of Ed lunging at them after she’d shot him flooded her mind and a wave of panic shot through her, stealing the breath from her lungs. This time when she tried to scream, nothing came out but a hoarse whisper. He was going to die. She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t do anything but sit here and watch it happen. She was useless, just like Ed had always told her.

Fighting the panic, she dropped back into the driver’s seat, searching wildly for a way to get his attention when her eyes fell on the steering wheel. One long blast from the horn was all it took. He scrambled to his feet and yanked the knife from his belt just as the walker lunged for his throat. He dropped it easily and gave her a wave of thanks before crouching back down to the pavement to finish with the SUV.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the seat, taking deep breaths to slow her racing heart. This was too much. How could they live in a world like this? What kind of life would Sophia have now? Even if they made it to the cabin how long would it be before they could live a normal life again?

A soft tap on her shoulder drew her out of her thoughts and she rested her hand on top of Sophia’s. “It’s ok, honey. He’s alright now.”

But her daughter pulled her hand away and shook Carol’s shoulder more urgently. This time Carol opened her eyes and turned back to Sophia. “What’s wrong?”

Sophia didn’t answer, but her eyes were wide with fear as she pointed a shaking finger toward the road ahead. A small swarm of walkers was shambling down the highway, all moving toward the spot where Daryl stood with his back to the SUV, swinging his knife wildly as they closed in on him from all sides.

Carol gasped and fumbled with the door handle, almost falling out of the car as she rushed around to the back of the jeep and yanked the lug wrench off of the spare tire. She could do this. And she wasn’t going to watch him die.

“Stay here,” she commanded, slamming the door shut behind her. “And lock the doors!”

The first hit was easier than she thought it would be. She aimed for the head like Daryl had told her, swinging the wrench like a baseball bat and cracking the dead woman’s skull with enough force to send her straight to the ground. The next one was harder. The man probably had a hundred and fifty pounds on her and was coming at her with his arms outstretched, making it nearly impossible for her to get close enough to hit him without getting scratched.

His lumbering gait was similar enough to Ed’s that her brain short circuited, superimposing her husband’s face on the man’s body and triggering a burst of adrenaline that surged through her veins and made her heart race. Darkness flitted at the edge of her vision, but when the man grabbed for her again, she managed to sidestep him and kick his knee from the side, dropping him to the ground long enough for her to plunge the wrench into the back of his head.

She took out four more that way, making her way over to the spot where Daryl was struggling with the last one, his foot planted squarely on it’s chest as he struggled to reach the gun that had fallen under the SUV. His knife was lodged in the walker’s neck and its blood poured out like a black waterfall over its chest, covering Daryl’s boot with the slippery liquid.

Carol swung the wrench down hard just as the dead man turned toward her and the blow glanced off the side of his head. He was on her before she could swing again, their feet slipping in the pool of blood and sending them both tumbling to the ground, her leg twisting awkwardly underneath their bodies. She cried out, gripping his shoulders with both hands to keep his snapping jaws away from her neck, but her arms were getting weak. She was just about to close her eyes and accept her fate when the top of the man’s head disappeared, spraying her with blood and brains as his dead weight slumped on top of her.

She was suffocating. He didn’t bite her but he was still going to kill her. She couldn’t move and she couldn’t breath. The tunnel vision was setting in again when suddenly the weight was gone and she sucked in desperate lungfuls of air. Daryl was kneeling next to her with the gun at his feet.

“You alright?” he demanded, his hands roaming all over her body. “Are you bit?”

She shook her head numbly, letting the realization that they were both alive wash over her like a warm bath. He was okay. She helped him and he was okay. “I’m alright,” she reassured him, letting him help her up to a sitting position. “Just twisted my knee on the way down.”

He took her leg gently in his hands, moving his fingers slowly around her kneecap while watching her intently for any sign of pain. “This okay?” he asked.

“Mmm hmm.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as he continued to touch her, sending tingling rushes of nerves up the inside of her thigh.

He glanced up to check her reaction, his deep blue eyes drilling into hers. Embarrassment sent heat flooding into her cheeks and for a lingering moment it felt like he could see all the things she was thinking. Things that were completely inappropriate under normal circumstances, and even worse while they were sitting in the middle of a highway covered in blood and guts.

Even if he couldn’t read her mind, he was able to pick up enough to make his own cheeks tint pink and his eyes flit back to the ground. “Uh, you think you can stand?” he asked, looking anywhere but at her.

“Yeah, I think so.” She let him help her to her feet, his fingers sending the same electric impulses through her arm that they had through her leg. But when she tried to put weight on her injured knee, it nearly buckled underneath her. She tipped to the side, catching herself against Daryl’s chest.

“Guess it’s not okay,” he murmured, holding her upright with one arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

“I guess not,” she looked up at him, both of them still breathing hard even though the danger had passed. There was a question in his eyes that made her heart flutter with excitement that she hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. He was blinking slower now and she could feel herself moving closer, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips involuntarily. He mimicked her movements and her eyes had just drifted closed when the sound of a horn honking frantically broke the spell between them.

They pulled away from each other instantly, Daryl sprinting back toward the jeep as Carol hobbled behind him. The more Sophia honked, the more walkers appeared on the highway. There were already at least ten of them plastered to the passenger side of the jeep, clawing and scraping at the windows. Primal fear surged through Carol’s belly. Her baby was in there alone. She’d left her there to save a man she barely knew. If anything happened to Sophia she might as well lay down and die because there wouldn’t be anything left for her in this world after that.

Daryl was fifty feet from the jeep when he started yelling, drawing as many as he could away from Sophia and shooting the ones that got within range, but his ammo ran out too fast and he had to go back to fighting them hand to hand.

Carol couldn’t even feel the pain in her knee now. Her only thought was getting to Sophia before they could hurt her. But they kept getting in her way. Every step she took seemed to be blocked by one of them. She was swinging the lug wrench left and right, plowing through them, but it was like wading through quicksand.

She kept her eyes trained on the jeep, meeting her daughter’s terrified gaze for a split second before one of them plowed into Carol from the side, knocking her off balance and forcing her to step back on her bad knee with all her weight. She fell to the ground, writhing in agony as she grappled with the walker that was pinning her against the pavement. She grasped wildly for the wrench, the tips of her fingers grazing the cool metal just out of reach. When the walker lunged for her chest she she brought both hands up, pushing it away just long enough to pull herself closer to the wrench and bringing it down on the thing’s skull like a hammer.

That’s when she heard the glass break.

They were piling up against the jeep now, growling and gnashing their teeth as they strained to reach the girl. Carol watched in horror as Sophia opened the driver’s side door and stumbled out onto the highway, still clutching her doll to her chest, looking around frantically for an escape as the walkers closed in from all sides.

A silent scream froze in Carol’s throat as her daughter backed up to the guardrail, casting one more frightened glance over her shoulder before stepping over it, clamoring down the embankment and disappearing into the woods.

Time seemed to stand still as she watched what was left of the walkers stumble after her daughter. She pushed herself up, running blindly toward the place where Sophia left the highway. But just as she was climbing over the guardrail a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She screamed, struggling violently until she heard his voice.

“Wait here. I got her.”

She pushed against his hold with all her strength but he wouldn’t budge. “Let me go!”

He released his hold on her waist just long enough to scramble over the railing and grab her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Sweat streamed down his face and his shirt was stained with blood and gore. “You’re hurt. You need to stay.”

“No.” She shoved him away again, falling to the ground as soon as she took another step.

“Please,” his breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild and pleading, begging her to trust him. “I can’t keep both of you safe out there. Stay. I’ll bring her back to you, I swear.”

They’d already lost precious seconds. And he was right. She would be a liability. Letting him go alone was the best way to bring Sophia back.

“Go,” she said, pushing him away, but he was already moving, yelling back over his shoulder for her to stay safe.

When he disappeared from view she staggered over to an abandoned truck, shutting herself inside and pressing her fingertips to the window as tears wet her cheeks and blurred her vision. The longer she waited, the hope that she’d see them again slowly slipped away.

And by the time darkness fell she was sure they were gone forever.


	10. Ten

Carol woke with a start, blinking against the harsh morning light. Her eyes were swollen and raw and her neck ached from sleeping sitting up. But none of that compared to the searing pain in her chest when she remembered where she was and what had happened. Her daughter was gone. Monsters had chased her sweet baby girl into the woods and she was never going to see her again.

She opened the door of the truck and leaned out, vomit splattering on the pavement. Her only job was to keep Sophia safe and she had failed again. It was just like Ed always said- she didn’t listen. Daryl told her to stay in the Jeep, but she thought she knew better. She thought she could save him without losing her daughter. And now she’d lost them both. Sentenced them to death because of her stupidity.

Her ears rang as she pressed her palms hard against the sides of her head, hunching forward and rocking back and forth, trying to block out the thoughts that were wearing a groove in her mind like a broken record. She was useless, stupid, selfish, a waste of oxygen. All she’d had to do was keep an eye on Sophia and she couldn’t even do that right.

The highway was silent as she stumbled out onto the pavement, her feet dragging behind her like she was dead already. She made her way to the center yellow line before sinking down onto the asphalt and curling into the fetal position. The guilt and shame crashed over her in waves, one after another, relentlessly. She didn’t fight it. She wanted to drown, wanted to lay here until the walkers came to rip her apart piece by piece. It was what she deserved.

It wasn’t long before she heard a low growl, distant at first, but growing louder. Tears streamed down her face as she waited, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to hold Sophia’s face in her mind so it would be the last thing she saw. But all she could see was the terrified look Sophia had cast over her shoulder before she disappeared.

Soon the tone of the walker’s growl changed and the erratic cadence of its footsteps picked up speed. It had spotted her. She braced herself for the impact of the bite, but when she tried to envision her daughter’s face again, she saw Daryl’s instead. The desperation in his eyes as he begged her to let him go alone. How he’d sworn that he’d bring Sophia back to her.

She opened her eyes just as the walker dropped to its knees next to her, a snarl on its lips as it leaned in to bite the soft flesh of her thigh. A strangled scream tore from her throat and she brought her knee up hard, making contact with the side of its face and sending it reeling backward. It recovered quickly, lunging forward and grasping at her legs as she scrambled to her feet.

This time she didn’t have anything to use as a weapon, but it didn’t matter. She poured every ounce of her grief and anger into a solid kick to the walker’s chest, knocking it to the ground and slamming her heel into its forehead with a crunch. She stood there panting as a pool of blackened blood gathered around her shoes.

She wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. There was still a chance that Daryl would bring her baby back to her. And she was going to make damn sure she was ready when he did.

Pain shot through her injured knee as she staggered back to the Jeep, stooping to pick up the lug wrench on the way. She yanked open the passenger side door and used the wrench to break out the rest of the remaining glass, letting it shatter on the pavement at her feet. Next she moved to the back of the Jeep and dropped the tailgate, systematically emptying the contents of two boxes and breaking down the cardboard into flattened sheets.

The roll of duct tape Ed always kept in the glove box was still there and she used it to fasten the cardboard to the empty windows, ripping each strip with her teeth and silently thanking God that her husband’s paranoia was actually good for something.

They were going to make it back.

They were going to make it back and she had to be ready.

She repeated the mantra over and over in her mind as the morning sun transformed into a blistering afternoon heat. Sweat poured from her skin while she worked to pick out every last piece of glass from the interior of the jeep. Her fingertips were raw and bleeding, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped then her brain would start to spin again, imagining all of the awful ways her daughter and Daryl could have already died.

Once the interior was clean, she slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling up slowly to the place in the traffic jam where Daryl had left off. After clearing the dead walkers out of the way, she didn’t have the strength left to push the cars on her own like he did, but she found that she could use the jeep to carefully nudge them out of the way, bumper to bumper.

It was late afternoon by the time she cleared the last vehicle and drove back to the place where she’d last seen her daughter. She cut the engine and stepped outside, checking her watch. Twelve more hours. She’d give them twelve more hours before she went after them. Chances were they were already gone, but she had to try. And if all she managed to do was get torn apart by walkers in the woods, then at least she’d be reunited with her daughter in the afterlife.

Unless of course she was going to hell.

The hours ticked by slowly and with nothing left to do, her mind returned to the intrusive thoughts. But this time she welcomed them. There was nothing that her brain could dredge up from its deepest, darkest depths that she didn’t already believe. And after a while the hateful words she flung at herself began to give her a vague sense of calm, the kind that comes from self-flagellation as penance.

As dusk fell, more walkers began to stumble onto the highway, almost as if the cooling temperature made them more active. There were only a few here and there, nothing like what they’d seen yesterday, but enough to keep her on her toes, scanning her surroundings for their telltale groans and shuffling footsteps. As strange as it seemed, she was almost getting used to them, and as long as she stayed out of sight, she was able to avoid most of them. Which is why she didn’t have much of a reaction when she noticed another one emerging from the forest in the dim evening light.

It moved closer, its shambling gait becoming more pronounced as it waded through the tall weeds that marked the edge of the treeline. She picked up the lug wrench, ready to fight if it came for her, but then it turned to duck under a low-hanging branch, revealing something clinging to its back. Her heart surged into her throat and she stumbled forward, dropping the wrench behind her and clamoring over the guard rail.

The weeds tore at her legs as she rushed toward them. “Sophia?” she gasped, fearful that this was just some cruel trick her mind had played on her.

When she reached them, Daryl leaned down to let Carol take Sophia in her arms, but she slammed into them with such speed that he fell to his knees and they all ended up in a pile on the ground. Carol grasped for her daughter, wrapping her arms around her small shoulders and inhaling the scent of her hair before holding her out at arms length to examine her for injuries.

“Are you alright?” she asked, frantically checking her daughter’s skin for bites. Sophia nodded. She was covered in dirt and so exhausted that she could barely keep her eyes open. Still not speaking, but alive, which was the best Carol could hope for and far more than she deserved.

She pulled Sophia to her again and sobbed into her neck. This was the closest thing to a miracle that she’d ever experienced. She looked over to Daryl, words failing her as she searched for some way to express the depth of her gratitude. But he was still kneeling in the dirt, clutching his left side as he struggled to stand.

Her blood went cold despite the euphoria that had been running through her veins just seconds earlier. She’d been so overwhelmed with relief at seeing Sophia that she hadn’t noticed he was hurt. And hurt badly judging from the amount of blood that had saturated his shirt.

She stood, keeping Sophia tucked tightly against her side, and reached out to help him up. He flinched at her touch, but reluctantly took her hand, using her as leverage to get to his feet. When he finally met her eyes, she tried to speak, but the question froze on the tip of her tongue.

He shook his head with a grimace. “It ain’t a bite. Fell down a steep bank by the creek and landed on a dead tree. Got lucky the branch went straight through. Just need to get it cleaned up and it’ll be alright.”

A second wave of relief hit her hard and she almost swooned from the emotional whiplash. The fact that they’d both made it back relatively unscathed after being out there for so long was the one possibility she hadn’t mentally prepared for. But she also wasn’t sure Daryl was being completely honest. He said he’d be alright, but his body told a different story. His face was ghostly pale, and he struggled just to climb up the gentle incline that led back to the highway.

Carol helped Sophia into the backseat of the Jeep, grateful that she’d been able to clean up the glass so her daughter had a comfortable place to rest after her ordeal. She let Sophia curl up on the bench seat and covered her with a thin blanket, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead just like she’d done every night since Sophia was a baby.

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. There’d be time to upack her emotions later. Right now it was getting darker and darker with every minute that passed and she had no intention of spending another night on this highway.

Daryl climbed over the guardrail and limped by the front of the Jeep, but didn’t head for the door like she expected.

“Let me get those last couple cars out of the way so we can get going,” he said, still holding his left arm tight against his side.

She shook her head, hurrying around to the passenger side and opening the door, motioning for him to sit down. “It’s already done.”

His relief was palpable as he shuffled over and lowered himself into the seat with a groan. “Thanks.”  
Sophia was already snoring softly by the time they’d made it past the traffic jam and back onto the open highway. Daryl’s exhaustion seemed to be taking over too as he sunk deeper into his seat, wincing when he turned toward Carol. 

“We should take the next exit. Get onto the county road and head west. It’s not a straight shot to the cabin that way, but it’ll still get us there.”

She nodded and gripped the steering wheel tighter. The sooner they could get off the roads the better.

He cleared his throat and when she glanced at him, he was watching her intently. “That was a lot to clear by yourself.”

She shook her head. “I used the jeep to push them out of the way. No strength required.”

“Smart.”

It took a second for her mind to register that he was giving her a sincere compliment and she struggled to come up with a response, eventually giving in to her tendency to deflect. “Would’ve been smarter if I’d thought of it sooner instead of sitting on my ass watching you push them all day.”

He let his head fall back against the seat, watching her from the corner of his eye. “Nah, don’t do that. You did good.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and she stared at the yellow line in the center of the road, the same place where she’d almost let a walker eat her for breakfast just this morning. She didn’t deserve his praise, but it still felt good. She hadn’t given up. She’d done what she needed to do and they’d made it through, together.

“Daryl, I…” she trailed off, unable to come up with the right words as she stared at the road ahead. It wasn’t just Sophia’s life that he’d saved, he’d saved hers too. And there wasn’t anything she’d ever be able to do to make it up to him. “I just need to tell you that what you did means so much to me. You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life and if there’s ever anything I can do to thank you…”

She snuck a glance in his direction to see if he understood how truly thankful she was, but he was already asleep, his eyes closed and his chin resting lightly against his chest.

#

After three hours of driving and several stops to check the hand drawn map that Daryl had made before they left the house, Carol was unsure of where to go next. The intersection she was stopped at was missing its sign and they couldn’t afford to waste any gas going around in circles. As much as she hated to do it, she had to wake him up.

“Daryl,” she whispered, softly at first so she wouldn’t startle him.

When he didn’t respond, she raised her voice a little, but not so much that she’d wake Sophia. “Daryl. Is this where I need to turn?”

This time he stirred but didn’t open his eyes, just shifted in his seat and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Daryl?” she reached out cautiously, knowing he didn’t react well to being touched, but when her fingers grazed the bare skin of his shoulder, she was the one that flinched. He was burning up. She switched on the dome light and pressed her palm to his forehead. He frowned, but didn’t wake up. A thin sheen of sweat coated her hand as she pulled it away, her heart jumping into her throat.

She shook him hard this time and he opened his eyes for a few seconds, squinting at her with confusion.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“You have a fever,” she said. “We need to get you some medicine. Do you know where we are? Is there a town nearby?”

He looked out the window but just shook his head and slouched back into his seat, letting his eyes close again. “I don’t know. I’m alright. Don’t need nothing.”

Her hands shook as she pulled a state map out of the glove box and tried to retrace the turns she’d taken since they left the highway. There had to be something around here. Even small towns had doctors offices and pharmacies. After everything they’d already been through there was no way in hell she was going to let him die from an infection that could be cleared up with some antibiotics.

For a split second she thought about what would happen if he died. He could turn into one of those things, just like Ed had. He’d go after her and Sophia, a mindless monster with a relentless hunger. She wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to do what would need to be done if it came to that. He’d want her to do it, of course, but it would break her into a million pieces.

She wiped away the tears that were blurring her vision and tried to focus on the map, pointing a trembling finger at the road she was on now. If she kept going straight they should hit the next town within twenty or thirty miles. She shifted into first gear, praying he wouldn’t get any worse before they made it that far.


	11. Chapter 11

“Shit.” Carol hunched forward, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she squinted at the signs that hung over each storefront in the deserted town. The Jeep’s headlights cut a path through the fog but didn’t do much to illuminate the buildings, especially now that streetlights weren’t really a thing anymore. Daryl mumbled incoherently in the passenger seat and she reached over to check his temperature for the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. Touching him had become a nervous tic for her. It didn’t seem possible, but his skin felt hotter every time she checked. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

She pushed down the panic rising in her chest and tried to focus. He was not going to die. She wouldn’t let him. Not like this. Not before she had the chance to properly thank him for all he’d done for her and Sophia.

They passed a coffee shop and a bar but there was still no sign of a pharmacy or a doctor’s office. At this point she’d even settle for a veterinarian. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she turned onto a cross street. There had to be something around here. It’s not like the people who lived here were driving to Atlanta for every doctor’s visit.

She considered turning around and heading back to the large grocery store they’d passed on the outskirts of town, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. It might have something she could use to bring down the fever and help with the pain, but there wouldn’t be anything strong enough to fight the infection. Plus she was terrified of the idea of going into a space that big without Daryl to help fight off any walkers that could be wandering around in there.

When she turned onto a side street and saw the pharmacy sitting there like a gift from god, her eyes welled up with relief. The place was small, but there was a good chance they’d have the basic antibiotics and supplies she needed to help him. She pulled into a parking space right up front and cut the lights and engine quickly.

Sophia stirred in the back seat, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Carol twisted in her seat and rubbed her daughter’s knee, doing her best to hide the notes of panic that were trying to creep into her voice. 

Sophia answered with a sleepy shrug, but when she woke up enough to see where they were, she gave Carol a questioning look.

“Daryl’s got a fever,” she explained. “We need to get him some medicine. Can you help me get him inside?”

Sophia’s eyebrows pulled together with concern, but she nodded resolutely.

Together, they were able to get Daryl out of the Jeep and up to the front door. He was conscious, but not lucid, barely able to keep his eyes open as he slumped against the building. Carol ran back to the Jeep to grab his crossbow, just in case there were any unexpected surprises inside, and was just about to smash the glass in the front door when Sophia tapped her shoulder and pointed at the cardboard sign hanging in the window. 

‘Take what you need and God bless.’

A weight lifted off Carol’s shoulders. At least there were still some good people in this world. She reached for the door handle and it swung open easily. The place was dark, but there was no sign of walkers and the shelves looked relatively full. She pulled Daryl’s arm around her shoulders and helped him to the back of the pharmacy where the prescription medicines were stored, Sophia following close behind.

“What is this?” Daryl asked, looking around with a dazed expression.

The cool night air seemed to have brought him back to reality, if only for a moment.

“It’s a pharmacy,” Carol gasped as she eased him down onto the tile floor behind the pharmacist’s counter. “We need to get you some medicine and clean up your wound, ok?”

He nodded, but she still wasn’t sure if he understood.

“Sophia, can you get him some water?” Carol asked, pointing to the water cooler that sat in the tiny waiting area next to a couple of well worn chairs. Sophia rushed over to get it while Carol turned to the shelves with her flashlight, scanning the boxes and bottles for what she needed.

Her brief stint in nursing school before she’d married Ed made her fairly confident that she could figure out the right combination of medications to help him, but there was no guarantee they’d actually be available, so when she found the box of amoxicillin, it felt like winning the lottery.

“Here you go.” She popped two pills into her hand and crouched down next to him, accepting the paper cup of water that Sophia brought over. “You aren’t allergic to anything are you?”

“Huh?” he asked, squinting at her with glassy eyes.

“Are you allergic to penicillin?” she repeated, hoping the message would get through this time.

He shook his head and she wasn’t sure if that was a ‘no’, or just more confusion, but he accepted the pills from her and swallowed them quickly before she could ask again. She handed him the cup of water next, but he set it down on the floor without taking a drink, letting his eyes slip closed.

“Wait, don’t go to sleep yet,” she stood up and rushed back to the shelves, trying to find something that would ease the pain and bring down his fever. She finally settled on tylenol with codeine, barely getting him to swallow the last pill before he drifted off again.

Carol turned her attention to his wound next. Sophia helped her guide him to the floor so he was flat on his back and they slipped a package of gauze under his head for a pillow. His shirt was filthy- stuck to his skin with dried blood and caked in a thick layer of crusty mud. Her fingers shook as she reached for the buttons. If he were conscious, he’d be clear across the room by now, she was pretty sure, but there was no other choice. It had to be done.

She finished with the buttons and eased it down his arms, revealing a patchwork of bruises and scrapes across his torso that served as a reminder of everything he’d done to save her little girl. The puncture on his side had gone all the way through, just like he’d told her, but it was still relatively close to the surface and didn’t appear to have done any major damage.

When she doused the wound with saline, he twitched and let out a low moan, but didn’t wake up. Sophia watched with wide eyes and a worried frown, but Carol stopped herself from trying to reassure her daughter any more than she already had. Sophia was young, but after all the things she’d seen in her short life, Carol couldn’t pretend that she was naive. Empty promises didn’t mean much. She just needed to fix it.

Once everything was clean, she rolled him onto his other side so she could apply the bandage. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as the beam of her flashlight slid across the crisscrossing pattern of thick scars that covered his back.

“Sophia, could you grab another package of that gauze and some tape?” she asked, quickly shifting her body to block her daughter’s view.

She bandaged the wound and turned him onto his back again. His body was shaking with chills now, but there wasn’t anything else they could do but cover him with a thin blanket from the pharmacy’s gift shop and wait.

They sat down a few feet away from him and Sophia scooted closer to Carol, squeezing her old doll close to her chest and chewing on her fingernails. Carol wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and pulled her in tight. “He’s going to be alright,” she murmured into her hair, praying to God that it was true.

#

She woke up in the early morning light to the sound of retching. Daryl hadn’t moved from his place on the floor next to them, but he was curled in on himself, sweaty and pale. She reached for a garbage can and scrambled over to him just in time. He grabbed the edge of the can, wincing as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and threw up, his shoulders shaking with the effort.

A million scenarios rushed through her mind at once. He was allergic to the antibiotics... the infection had already developed into sepsis... the wound went deeper than she thought and had punctured his liver. She watched helplessly as he continued to heave into the can, clutching his side with his free hand. The noise woke Sophia and she grimaced as she watched Daryl vomit, turning back to Carol with pleading eyes.

After a few more minutes of gagging and spitting, he leaned back against the cabinet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he caught his breath. Carol moved forward carefully and pressed her fingers to his forehead. He flinched and pulled the flimsy blanket tighter around his shoulders. His skin was warm and clammy, but the blistering heat from last night was gone. 

She sighed with relief and hurried over to the water cooler, returning with a fresh cup that he accepted and drank too quickly, prompting another bout of vomiting. This time when he leaned back, he watched her warily. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, but the glassy sheen was gone.

“How do you feel?” she asked, refilling his water and placing it on the floor next to him.

“Like shit.” His voice had even more gravel in it than usual. “What happened? Where are we?”

Hearing him ask coherent questions was just what she needed to get her mind to stop spinning through one worst case scenario after another.

“You had a fever. We stopped here for antibiotics. I don’t know the name of the town.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw like he was trying to hold back another wave of nausea. “What the hell did you give me? Feel like I got a hangover from hell.”

“Amoxicillin. Are you allergic?” She bit her lip while Sophia cast worried glances between the two of them.

He shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

“Oh, I gave you tylenol for the fever too. The kind with codeine to help you sleep.”

A slight tremor shook his hand as he brought the water to his lips, taking a slow sip this time. “Must have been that. Painkillers always make me puke.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking at the floor and twisting her wedding ring around on her finger.

“Don’t be.” He let his head fall back again and peered at her through narrowed eyes. “Probably be dead already if you hadn’t done what you did.”

Her cheeks burned hot under his gaze and she stood up quickly, brushing her hands on the seat of her pants, searching for something to do so he wouldn’t notice how flustered she’d gotten from a simple glance. “Speaking of medicine, here’s your next dose of antibiotics.” She tore off one of the foil squares and set it on the floor next to him. “I think you’re supposed to take it with food though, so you might want to wait until you can keep something down. Do you want me to get you some crackers or something?” She took a step away from him and then turned back. “Oh, wait, first let me find you some tylenol without the codeine. Are you okay to take that? It should take the edge off the pain at least. Or maybe Advil would be better?”

When she finally stopped to take a breath, Sophia was watching her with both eyebrows raised. Carol’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, but fortunately Daryl didn’t seem to notice.

“Tylenol’s fine,” he mumbled, wincing again as he shifted to inspect the bandage on his side.

Carol set to work, bringing over the medicine and sending Sophia to grab a fresh shirt from the gift shop for him. Once he’d swallowed the pills, she helped him stand and held the shirt up, looking away to give him some privacy as he dropped the blanket and slipped his arms into the sleeves.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, clearly relieved to be covered again.

Carol let him rest while she and Sophia gathered the medication and supplies they needed, careful not to take advantage of the owner’s generosity. He stayed on the floor, chewing on the edge of his thumb and watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

When everything was ready she turned to him. “Are you okay to walk or do you need to rest a little longer?”

He shook his head and pulled himself up with a grimace. “Nah, I’m good. The sooner we get to the cabin the better. Ain’t safe out here.”

They moved slowly toward the front of the store, stopping every few feet for him to push down another wave of nausea, and when they finally reached the door, his face fell.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Looks like we got some company.”

Carol followed his gaze outside where a couple of relatively fresh walkers were wandering around by the Jeep. Daryl pulled back the string on his crossbow with a grunt, struggling more than usual to lift it up to eye level as he opened the door. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, the familiar sound of the little brass bell catching the first walker’s attention and sending him in Daryl’s direction.

She and Sophia watched as it limped forward, its jaw working in anticipation of a meal. Daryl fired an arrow into its head and then stooped to pull it out so he could use it on the next walker that was still advancing across the street. It was a move Carol had already seen him use a few times when they were on the highway.

But this time the arrow seemed to be stuck in the bone and he was having a hard time getting it loose. Carol’s fingers twitched against her knife handle. It felt wrong to watch him struggle with the walkers on his own, especially since he was hurt, but she didn’t dare leave Sophia alone again. Not after what happened last time.

After a few more seconds he gave up and turned to plunge his knife into the next walker’s temple when it got within biting distance. It dropped easily and Carol chastised herself for worrying. Daryl returned to get the arrow, this time pressing his boot against the walker’s face and using both hands to pull it out, his chest heaving with the effort.

Now that the street was clear, Carol ushered Sophia outside and into the Jeep while Daryl collapsed into the passenger seat.

“You okay?” she asked.

He let his head fall back against the seat and gave her a tired smile. “Gotta be.”

Carol retraced her route from the night before back to the highway, and once there, Daryl was able to point her in the right direction toward the cabin. They were far enough from the city now that they didn’t have to deal with any more traffic jams, but the walkers were still around. Every two or three miles they’d see them, wandering listlessly down the road, sometimes alone, sometimes in small groups.  
“Where are they all coming from?” Carol murmured, frowning as she steered around another one.

“Who knows,” Daryl shrugged, chewing absently on a saltine. “They could’ve come from anywhere. You can cover a lot of ground when you don’t stop.”

“Slow and steady wins the race?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He nodded and glanced over his shoulder to Sophia, dozing in the backseat. “Yeah. That’s what happened when we were out there.”

Carol’s stomach twisted and her mouth went dry at the memory of her daughter being chased by those things.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“No, I do,” she said, swallowing back her fear and doing her best to give him an encouraging nod. “I do.”

He fiddled with another cracker, breaking it into small pieces between his fingers. “That’s pretty much it, I guess. They just kept coming. I caught up to her pretty quick, but every time we tried to circle back to the highway they cut us off. Kept pushing us farther out. She got worn out and I had to carry her so I couldn’t take a chance on trying to fight through them. After a while they got us sort of corralled down by the creek and we had to climb down the bank to get away.”

“That’s when you got hurt?” Carol asked, fighting the tears that were stinging the back of her eyes.

“Pfft. Yeah, I was being stupid. Didn’t watch where I was going and lost my footing. Rolled all the way down to the damn creek bed and knocked myself cold.”

Carol swallowed hard, imagining the terror that Sophia must have felt in that moment.

“Your girl got me back up though. Made me keep going.” He sniffed and brushed the crumbs off his lap. “You got one tough ass kid there, you know that?”

She nodded, quickly brushing away her tears before they could fall. “She’s always been strong.”

“She ain’t the only one.” His cheeks turned red as his words hung in the air between them. And when she failed to come up with any sort of response to the compliment, he turned back to the window and cleared his throat. “Uh, you’ll want to take a right up here. We’ll be hitting a dirt road pretty soon. Should get there before dark.”


	12. Chapter 12

He never should’ve brought them here. The way Carol’s eyes widened when they pulled up to the cabin was enough to make that clear. He didn’t blame her for reacting that way. The place looked even worse than he remembered. Or maybe it looked the same, but now that he was seeing it through her eyes, the broken shingles and peeling paint and scuffed up door stood out a whole lot more. The blue tarp on the roof didn’t help either. He cringed, glancing over at Carol from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge her reaction. She was probably regretting her decision to come out here right about now. This was a place where somebody might hole up to write a manifesto, not somewhere you bring a woman and her daughter.

“It ain’t a nice place.” He said it quick so she wouldn’t have to pretend. So she would know that he knew it was shit. “Not like what you’re used to.”

“What I’m used to wasn’t very nice.” She murmured, giving him a wry smile. “I’m sure this is going to be much better.”

He climbed up the steps of the sagging front porch that he’d been meaning to repair for years. “I can fix it up some. Got supplies out in the shed, just never found the time to get it done.”

If the outside of the place was embarrassing, the inside was enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin with humiliation. Cobwebs hung like curtains from the rafters and the floral wallpaper that his Grandma had probably put up in the early 1960s was stained yellow from decades of nicotine. The countertops were cluttered with empty beer bottles full of cigarette butts that he and Merle had never bothered to clean up and the door to the single bedroom dangled from one hinge.

To Carol’s credit, she didn’t flinch as she took in the scene, just smiled at him warmly and nodded like this was exactly what she had imagined. Sophia followed suit, looking around with a curious expression but without a hint of concern or disgust in her eyes.

“Sorry about all this,” Daryl mumbled, rushing into the small galley kitchen to gather up beer bottles in his arms before remembering he didn’t have anywhere to put them and setting them back down abruptly. “Never had much reason to bother with keeping the place clean before. Me and Merle used it for a hunting cabin after Grandma and Grandpa passed. Pretty much just a flop house I guess.”

“I think it’s perfect,” she said, reaching out to rest her hand on his forearm just long enough to convey that she was being sincere. “I feel safer already.”

He stared down at the place where her fingers had just grazed his skin, goosebumps running up the length of his arm to his shoulder. His mind drifted back to the highway, after she’d saved him from the walkers and before Sophia ran off. He could’ve sworn there was a moment there when she looked like she wanted to kiss him. It didn’t make sense, but he was sure he hadn’t imagined it. And now she was standing close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin. He could see the sheen of sweat that glistened in the hollow between her collarbones.

“Daryl?” Her voice drew him back to reality, pushing away the thoughts running through his mind. “Are you alright?”

He cleared his throat and turned away so she wouldn’t see him turn red. “Yeah, fine. Uh, the stove in here works, but probably doesn’t have much propane left out in the tank. And the water won’t work without electricity for the pump, but we’ve got a good well out back with a hand pump.” He brushed past her into the living room. “The woodstove in here works good too, so we can use that to boil water for baths and such.”

She trailed after him and gestured to the threadbare couch that made you feel like your ass was about to hit the ground every time you sat on it. “We can bring in the supplies from the Jeep so you can rest.”

He shook his head and headed to the front door with his arm tucked tight against his side where the wound was still throbbing. “I’m alright. Don’t want to get too comfortable until we’re all settled anyway. I’ll bring in some water so we can get cleaned up.”

They made quick work of hauling in the supplies and by the time evening fell they were all safely back in the cabin with the door bolted shut. Somehow in between his trips out to the well, Carol had managed to clear off the countertops and prepare a dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a side of potato chips.

After everyone finished eating, Carol and Sophia took their buckets of water into the bathroom to get cleaned up, leaving him alone. His side was aching and he still felt weak from the ordeal with Sophia, but as soon as they’d closed the bathroom door behind them, he rushed into the bedroom, frantically grabbing anything that could be potentially embarrassing.

Luckily, there wasn’t much there but a couple sleeping bags tossed haphazardly over a dingy mattress on the floor so it was quick work to gather everything that he didn’t want them to see. But even so, he was left with a handful of old Playboys and a two-foot bong to get rid of before they finished. He was slipping back into the living room with the intention of bringing everything out to the woodshed when the bathroom door rattled behind him, leaving him no choice but to shove everything under the low-rider couch before flopping down onto the cushions with a grunt.

Carol stepped through the door and paused, giving him a quizzical look as she walked past the couch. “Sorry, I forgot our toothbrushes.”

“Mmm.” He shifted, wincing at the pain in his side as she moved closer, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Your fever didn’t come back did it?” She reached out and brushed his forehead with the tips of her fingers, but he flinched away from her touch, afraid she’d mistake the flush of embarrassment for something more concerning.

“Nah, I’m okay. Just tired I guess.” He shifted his weight and nudged the magazines further out of sight with the back of his foot.

“I can make up the bed for you, if you want?” she asked, pointing to the bedroom.

“No, no, you two take the room. I’m good out here.”

She frowned at him, looking unsure. “It’s your house and you’ve already done so much for us. I don’t want to take your bed too.”

He shrugged and chewed on the side of his thumb. This kind of stuff always made him uncomfortable. The social negotiating that seemed to come natural to most people always confused him. There was no way in hell he was taking that bed, but was it more polite to let her refuse a couple times first? If it was anybody else he would’ve already barked at them to just take the damn bed, but with her he wasn’t sure what to say next.

“Want you to take it,” he mumbled, gesturing to the bathroom where Sophia was waiting. “She needs the rest. Besides, I’d rather be closer to the door. Just in case.”

That seemed to be the right answer because the worry and uncertainty on Carol’s face melted into a soft smile. “Oh. Thank you.”

He nodded, satisfied that he’d managed to navigate the situation correctly. When she turned away to join Sophia in the bathroom again, he sighed with relief and let his head fall back against the cushion. All of a sudden the idea of walking out to the woodshed again seemed like way too much effort. He could move the stuff later. Right now his whole body felt heavy, like the exhaustion from everything they’d been through the past few days was finally catching up to him.

#

The smell of fresh coffee pulled Daryl up from the depths of sleep. It was disorienting at first. For a few seconds he thought he was back home with Merle, waking up hungover after passing out on the couch in the living room, but when he opened his eyes he was greeted by a perfect view of Carol’s ass. She was bent over the woodstove, stirring something in a frying pan. He let his eyes drift over the curves of her body while his brain finished piecing together all of the events that had led them here.

He glanced around the room, finding Sophia sitting cross legged on the floor with a book open on her lap. Luckily she seemed absorbed in the story enough that she hadn’t noticed him staring at Carol. He made a mental note to quit doing that. Even though neither of them had noticed, he didn’t want Carol to think she’d made a mistake by coming out here with him.

“Oh you’re up,” Carol said brightly, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the coffee table in front of him. “I hope this is okay.” She gestured to the woodstove where she had a good fire going. “I thought it might be nice to have a hot breakfast.”

“Yeah, good idea.” He pulled himself up to a sitting position, pushing aside the sleeping bag that she must have covered him with at some point. “Should’ve woken me up so I could help.” Bright light was streaming through the dusty windows, so he knew it must be late.

She shrugged and handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “I thought you could use the sleep.”

He couldn’t argue with that. His muscles were sore and the wound on his side still ached, but he didn’t feel nearly as tired as he had the day before, which was good because there was a lot of shit that needed to be done to make this place liveable. There was no telling how long they would need to stay here. When all this started he’d thought it would just be a matter of time before the government got things under control, but after what the military had done in Atlanta, all bets were off. It was clear they’d be on their own for the foreseeable future.

He picked up his plate while Carol served Sophia, stroking the girl’s hair and placing a kiss on the top of her head before looking up and giving him a grateful smile. Pride swelled in his chest. Just that one look from her was enough to make everything he’d been through to bring Sophia back worth it. Hell, it was enough to make him want to spend every waking minute finding more ways to be the kind of man who could make her happy.

She sat down on the other end of the couch and placed her own plate in her lap while he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth, happy to have a distraction from thoughts that were probably written all over his face.

“Good eggs,” he mumbled through a mouthful.

“Thanks.” She beamed at him. “They’re the powdered kind, but I tried to make them a little more appetizing.”

“Real good,” he repeated, unsure if he should say anything else to convey how much he appreciated her making breakfast. He was pretty sure she didn’t get much of that before, even though the state of her house made it obvious that she’d worked her ass off keeping everything perfect. “So, um, I thought maybe I could show you two around today if it seems safe. There’s a lake on the other side of the trees.”

Carol nodded vigorously. “That sounds great, right Sophia?”

Sophia looked up from her meal and gave him a timid smile.

#

The lake was the best part of the place, so he led them there first. It was a short walk from the cabin down a well-worn path through the trees but Sophia seemed nervous to be out in the woods again. The farther they got from the cabin, the more she drifted closer to him until she was practically glued to his side. Every noise, from the squirrels in the trees to the birds in the underbrush made her jump and look at him or Carol with wide, fearful eyes. He was starting to wonder if they should just go back, but Carol caught his gaze and gave him a slight shake of her head.

Once the path opened up to the rocky shore and they could see more than five feet around them on either side, Sophia visibly relaxed, following Carol down to the water to look for skipping stones. While they were occupied, he busied himself checking the old rowboat to make sure it was still in decent shape. It had been patched more times than he could count over the years, but the aluminum shell was still intact and there were plenty of fish in the lake.

Carol turned to him when he joined them at the water’s edge. “This is so beautiful,” she breathed. I can’t believe there aren’t more houses up here.”

“There are a few,” he pointed to the far side of the lake. “They’re all pretty run down though. Built in the forties as summer cabins so there was never much to them. My grandpa and grandma retired out here, so theirs was a little more solid than the rest. Still, we might want to check them if we’re gonna be here a while. Need to know if we’ve got neighbors.”

She nodded and then crouched down to show Sophia how to throw her rock parallel to the water so it would skip across instead of sinking. Sophia’s first few tries dropped straight down into the depths, but Carol’s skipped cleanly four or five times.

“You’re pretty good at that.”

She stood up and brushed her hands off on the back of her jeans, her cheeks turning pink from the compliment. “I went to summer camp every year as a kid. We used to have contests for skipping rocks and things like that. This place reminds of it.”

They both watched as Sophia continued to try, her tongue held firmly between her teeth as she cast rock after rock. The sun cast dappled light through the branches behind them and the familiar smell of the woods and the lapping of the water at the lake’s edge made it easy to pretend that things were normal. Like they were just up here for a long weekend like he and Merle used to do.

Now that they were relatively safe again, thoughts of his brother kept creeping back in. He was a pain in the ass, but he was the only family Daryl had left and it still felt wrong to be here without him. The chance that he’d survived the bombing in Atlanta was slim to none. He knew that. But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he should have tried harder to find him.

It was too late for that now though. Even if he wanted to go back and keep searching, there was no way he would leave Carol and Sophia on their own. At this point he’d just have to trust that if his brother had survived then they’d see eachother again someday.

When they got back to the cabin, he left them inside to unpack more of their things while he went out to set up an alarm system for walkers, stringing ropes and wires through the trees and hanging up old beer bottles and cans so they’d hear if anyone or anything tried to get too close to the cabin. It was tedious work but he’d be able to sleep better now that it was done.

After dinner that night he helped Carol with the dishes even though she kept insisting that she could do it herself. It wasn’t much, but he needed to do something to make it clear that he hadn’t brought them out here so she could be his maid. Then he took his turn in the bathroom, washing off all the grime that had accumulated over the past few days and using what was left of the water to rinse his hair and brush his teeth.

Carol and Sophia had already gone to bed when he came back to the living room, so he flopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the table. There was only a sliver of moonlight coming through the windows and a small candle to light the room, but for some reason it seemed brighter. After staring at the walls for a while, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him, he stood up and got closer, running his index finger down the wallpaper. It felt slick, not sticky with nicotine like it always had been before.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “She washed the damn walls.”

When he stepped back to look again he realized the cobwebs were gone too. Somehow he’d missed it when he came in and now he felt like an ass for not saying anything.

“How about some company?” A quiet voice came from the room behind him and he jumped away from the wall, twisting around to face her. “Sorry,” she whispered, inclining her head toward the room where Sophia was sleeping. “I didn’t mean to startle you. She’s out like a light, but I can’t go to sleep this early. Would you mind?”

“No.” He took a breath, giving his racing heart a second to slow down. “I mean, no, I don’t mind. I can’t sleep this early either.”

She gave him a sweet smile and went into the kitchen, coming back with the bottle of wine they’d opened the other night and two cups. “Want some?”

“Sure.” He moved back to the couch and watched as she poured some wine in each of their cups and then handed one to him before sitting down with one leg tucked up underneath her.

He took a sip and peeked at her from the corner of his eye. That feeling he’d had the day before when she’d touched his arm was back. Like there was something more happening than just two people killing time before bed. The problem was that he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do about it. Saying something to her would probably be a good start, but the more time that passed, the less he was able to think of anything besides kissing her.

For a minute he thought about just going for it. He was pretty sure she wanted the same thing, but he wasn’t completely sure. And he definitely wasn’t sure enough to risk complete and total humiliation if she balked at the idea. Especially because for better or worse they were living together now. If he made a wrong move, it could make the rest of their time here miserable.

“Daryl, I…” She shifted to face him, scooting a little closer and gripping her cup tightly between her palms. “I didn’t come out here just because I couldn’t sleep. I mean, that’s part of it, but I also wanted to ask you something.”

He nearly choked on his drink and had to put his cup down on the coffee table as he tried to smother a coughing fit in his elbow. She looked concerned, but he gestured for her to go on. His body was already responding to the idea of what he hoped she was about to say and he didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Do you think I’m a terrible person?” she asked, keeping her eyes cast down at her lap.

“Huh?” It took him a second to shift gears and once he figured out what she was talking about he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for hoping this was about sex.

“For what I did,” she continued. “Do you think I ruined Sophia’s life?”

He cleared his throat, trying to get his brain to focus on what she was asking. “No. Course not. You said yourself, he would’ve killed you if you didn’t do it.”

“I know.” She took another sip of wine and then squinted up at the ceiling. “But now I wonder if it would’ve been better that way. I’ve put Sophia through so much and she’s still not talking and I left her in the car alone and if you hadn’t saved her…” she trailed off, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up.” He put his hands up to get her to slow down and take a breath. “None of that stuff was your fault.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her. “I’m serious. All of those things were choices that you had to make in a split second. And you must have made the right ones because we’re all alive.”

“But, I…” she started.

“Listen,” he interrupted. “If you hadn’t shot Ed, I guarantee he would’ve killed me and Merle right then. And if you hadn’t left Sophia in the car those walkers on the highway would’ve gotten me. I’m not saying it’s not fucked up, cause it is. But we’re here and we’re alive. You, me, and Sophia. We made it. She may be traumatized and she may not be talking, but I bet she will again soon. Hell, she was out there skipping rocks with you earlier, right? You just gotta give it time. Sometimes it just takes a while to process shit, you know?”

She blinked at him like he’d just flown in on a UFO. Come to think of it, it was probably the most he’d ever really said to her. Maybe she’d just wanted him to listen and he’d fucked it all up by running his mouth. He sat back and took another swig of his wine, hoping it wasn’t too late to let her get back to what she was saying. But she didn’t get back to it. Instead she cocked her head to the side and gave him a look like she was just seeing him now for the very first time.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not my therapist, I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything.”

He shrugged. “Don’t mind being a therapist if it helps. But it’s true. I’ve known a lot of fucked up people in my life and trust me when I say you aren’t one of them.”  
She laughed softly and glanced up to meet his eyes. “I guess I’ve known a lot of fucked up people too.”

“Well I guess that’s one thing we’ve got in common.”


End file.
